Chapter Text
A cacophony of voices bounced across the high ceilings, the resounding hum of strings plucking through an elegant melody just barely managed to be heard above the chattering and gossip. It was still an undecided matter, whether Tim disliked the noise more from where he had been previously, tucked against his mothers side as she attempted to introduce him to every Lord and Lady over the music playing rather loudly from the stage, or from the shadowy alcoves he was currently peaking out from, tucked behind grand arches that decorated the walls of the grand ballroom.
He was almost certain that the volume of the constant noise was quite a bit louder within the alcove, the sound bouncing off an reverberating against the mostly closed in space. At least here he didn’t have to deal with the occasional, accidental, brush against someone else in the middle of the floor.
It had been three nights since their arrival to the palace, and even up to now, he had managed to stay under the royal families immediate radar. There were so many guests currently staying in the palace, all wishing to steal their attention away, that Tim had had no issues tucking himself away to the side and away from them whenever they looked his direction.
Although, he had been rather lucky the last few times he had ventured from his rooms alongside his parents. The King had only been present for minutes at a time at every dinner or gathering that had been hosted, always being whisked off by one responsibility or another. As for his children, the youngest, Prince Damian, and the eldest, Prince Richard, were the only ones who had made any sort of appearances. He did not know why the others hadn’t been in attendance, not even once, but it had certainly made his objective far easier.
After all, it was a lot simpler to stay out of two or three peoples sights than it would be to stay out of four to six.
Though his nerves were certainly still wound tight, he was considerably less worried now than he had been over the last few days. It was easy, to fall into that lull of safety and let it curb at anxious twitch in his hands that had been developing through most of their first day. After all, he hadn’t even spotted a single pair of wings the entire night so far! With how things had been going, he had high hopes that he could go through the whole night in the same manner. Then, he would only have to avoid the royal family for one more morning before he would be traveling back across the long dirt roads towards Redding and Drake Manor.
Tim had a half empty glass, hanging mostly forgotten in his hands as he moved in his hiding place, leaning into the side of one of the many arches in the room just to barely peek his head around the corner to observe the festivities, still just as rambunctious as they had been all night. It had been quite a few hours since the start of the night, and he had only just been able to slip off and away from the crowd at his parents insistence he went and mingled without their help. Usually he would be more willing to heed his parents wants, but this was the one time he felt he could get away without. He had already introduced himself to more people than he had ever seen in his whole life, and he was quite done with the awkward introductions for the week.
Time felt like it was moving incredibly slowly tonight, certainly tonight had been his longest experience in the castle yet, but he didn’t have a very reliable way to tell precisely how much time had passed. The sun that should have been bright for at least the first few hours of the party had been blanketed by dark thunder clouds all day, leaving little to no natural light to filter through the giant, stained glass planes that decorated the far side of the room, just behind the stage. Meaning that as far as Tim could tell, the hours he felt he had been here could have easily been as little as an hour or two.
He really hoped for the later, seeing as he was sure his parent would not let him leave back to their rooms under any circumstances until at least five hours had passed.
“Are you party cra-” A young, inquisitive male voice cut through his thoughts like a sharpened blade abruptly, seemingly, forgetting their question as Tim let out a loud gasp, jolting forward into the pillar. The liquid within his tall glass crashed up the sides, nearly spilling over as his shoulder crashed into the wall, settling only once his feet were firmly beneath him again, shoulder stinging from the sudden impact.
He swung around, shoulders rising up to his ears as a newer sort of panic rose within him. He hadn’t even seen the other boy anywhere near his little bubble of space, let alone heard him until he had seemingly appeared almost directly behind him.
At the very least, Tim wasn’t the only one suddenly startled as the other, much taller, boy’s eyes had widened in his surprise as he jolted a step backwards and away from Tim.
A brief moment passed where the two boys merely stared at one another before the taller seemed to gather his bearings enough to school his features, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow in Tim’s direction. His lips pressed together, thinning even as the side seemed to quirk just barely upwards.
“Are you party crashing? Because, as fun as that would be, I’m afraid it’s pretty strictly forbidden.” Tim couldn’t help but notice that the other boys voice was unfairly deeper than his own, and didn’t seem to pitch around the edges the same way his own did. It even held a sort of raspy undertone he wouldn’t have expected from someone else around his age.
So focused on his observations of the other, Tim didn’t realized he hadn’t quite processed the question, nor had he attempted to answer it, until the other boy’s tilted more towards confusion, his eyebrows pinching together while he waited.
“I- I’m sorry, what?” It wasn’t his best work, not even a partially regal response.
The snort from the other boy seemed to yank itself from the depths of his gut before he could stop it, his thin pressed lips giving way to a rather amused grin. “I’ve never seen you at one of these,” He jutted his chin beyond Tim’s shoulder, towards the many, many, aristocrats dancing and chattering away that hadn’t given any notice to the two of them. “And I have been to an ungodly amount. I’m pretty sure only the usual suspects were invited.”
It was here that Tim noticed the distinct… difference between this boys voice and the voices of those around them. He seemed to cut his words short, the consonants Tim would usually drag, sharply cut off as he spoke. It was a rather drastic contrast to what he was used to from the well-born visitors he occasionally listened in on as they spoke to his parents, or even any other Lord and Lady he had been introduced to over the last few days.
He took a moment to mull over his words, pursing his lips before saying, “I’ve never been within Gotham before to attend.”
“So you snuck in, then?” The words were said like it was such an easy arrival to this conclusion that Tim almost couldn’t form his own defense amist his sudden sputtering protest.
“I did not sneak in!” His voice raised, though still not quite enough to catch anyone outside of their little alcoves attention. It earned him a long look from the other boy.
“So you’re trying to tell me you were invited, huh? By who, then?”
“The King!” Tim would never admit to his slight voice crack across the short word, nor the indignant whine that coated it.
“Oh really? ‘Cause I thought B only invited the higher ups this time around?”
“I’m sure he did, and I- wait… B?” In his attempts to try and justify his presence, he hadn’t immediately processed the familiarity of the nickname for the King. Nor had he spotted the black and blue feathers just barely peaking over the taller boys shoulder, tucked in so tightly Tim couldn’t see even a feather sticking out from his sides.
The apparent prince merely rolled his eyes, unknowing to Tims new rush of panic, completely ignoring his question. “ I don’t actually care if you are party crashing, kid. No need to try and lie to me, these parties are boring anyways.”
Oh. Oh.
The urge to run off to his parents was only stopped short by the fact that running away to them would certainly draw more attention to him. It didn’t stop him from shifting on his feet, his free hand picking at the skin around his nails as he desperately tried to think of a polite, normal way to leave this conversation.
Left with no ideas, and little else to do, he spoke up again. “You’re one of the princes.” It wasn’t a question, even with the shakiness that cut the words.
The amused grin only widened as the taller boy clearly tried not to laugh in his face. “You really aren’t helping your case here, kid. I’ve been around for ages. Plus, at least according to some of the more… shrewd guests, I’m a little hard to forget.”
With his mind running at least a thousand miles a minute, Tim scoffed at the egotistical statement, his lips tugging downward as he narrowed his eyes on the other. “You can’t be that much older than me, you’re a kid too.”
What if he claimed he heard his parents calling for him? They were all the way across the room, so it would probably be the most unconvincing lie he could tell. Maybe the bubbly drink in his hands had gone bad, maybe he could claim sickness, maybe-
“Really? ‘Cause ya look like your seven.”
An indignant, and very un-lord like sound escaped him before he could stop it. “I’m thirteen!”
He earned a raised brow. “See, a child.”
“How old are you than? Fourteen?”
Tim had the great displeasure of watching the amusement on the older boys face twist into something far more smug as he replied, “Fifteen.”
“That is hardly-”
“Wait,” a look of understanding was dawning across the princes face, his eyes widening as he interrupted Tim’s very necessary eye roll. “You’re the Duke of Reddings kid, aren’t you?”
This… wasn’t the worst direction for this conversation. At least now, the very clear interest in the Prince’s eyes wouldn’t be aimed at finding out who (what) he was. That didn’t stop the sudden recognition from making him want to shrink into himself a little more, his shuffling feet stilling for a second as he forced himself to keep from curling his shoulders inwards.
Just thinking about his shoulders lead to thinking about his back, and how much he wished he could undo the binding there to just breathe and-
Not the point. He should be terrified of being caught out with his curse hidden under layers of clothing and wrappings, not thinking of the relief undoing all of that would cause, especially not in front of the Prince!
Maybe this conversation was for the best, something to provide a distraction from the very sudden awareness of his back that he had managed to avoid even thinking about nearly this whole trip.
Tim had let the silence stretch between them for a little too long before he finally nodded slowly. “Yes. So as you can see, I am well within the regulations to be here,” his eyes darted to the ground as he huffed through the sentence before quickly looking back up with enough time other than catch the, seemingly, eternal amusement across the older boys face.
There was a pause of silence, the Prince not offering any sort of response, before the question crashed into Tim’s mind. “Wait... How did you know I was the Duke’s son,” Tim questioned, avoiding the easier way out of this conversation despite his brain still insistently telling him he needed to leave, now.
He knew well enough that he looked very little like either of his parents. He was such an odd mix of their physical features that he actually looked nearly unrelated to them. The only definitive trait to pin him as his parents child was the baby blue eyes that both of them had passed down to him.
“Dick has been talking about meeting you with you parents since-”
Two things happened almost in tandem as the prince, Tim realized he still didn’t know which prince this was, continued to talk. Tim nearly chocked on air at the insulting name, the choking very quickly giving way to a stuttering sound as he waved his hands to cut off the older boy, eyes wide and shocked.
“You can’t just call Prince Richard that! What are you-”
“His nickname, you mean?”
His sputtering continued, unrelenting against the defense. Truly, were the interpersonal relationships between al royal family so awful that they resorted to this? “That is an awful nickname to give your own brother.”
“He asked to be called that, for your information. I am just happily obliging to his wishes.”
Confusion filled his mind, unrelenting even with his distrust to the other boys honesty. Seriously, in what world could that possibly be the truth? “No one asks to be called that!”
“Tell that to Dick’s face, you may make him cry.” The inflection was dry, as if he wasn’t actually concerned about that even as Tim wrinkled his nose at the other in disbelief.
The music that had slowly drawn into a close somewhere behind him rose with the start of a new symphony, this time the pianoforte blew some rather pleasant notes underneath the viola accompanying it. With the shift in music, Tim had yet to recognize the shift in his own head. The prince, albeit rude to his own kin, was… entertaining. Especially against the bleak night he had been coasting across. Any previous panic was giving way to the astonishment and disbelief this conversation was bringing, shoving his fear into a small box.
The longer he stayed, the longer they spoke, the folds on the box seemed to double.
“You’re Timothy, right? I think that’s what Dick said your name was.”
He was about to nod his head, but something held him back from saying yes. Everyone called him Timothy back home, the only exception was Mrs Mac. She had called him Tim as long as he could remember.
“Tim.”
“Tim?”
“Ya.” He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to say it, and he wouldn’t be sure for a long while yet. “Just Tim. I’ve never really liked Timothy much.”