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Damian shifted on the large blanket he’d set out. Under his palms he could feel the weird slightly muffled way the grass and dirt was when covered by a thick blanket. His sketchbook rested by his foot, alongside a copy of Northanger Abbey. He’d already tried reading and drawing while he waited and both had lost their charm quickly in favor of simply sitting.
The sun flickered through the leaves of the tree Damian had chosen to sit under, and the air was neither too crisp nor too warm. The breeze seemed to be enjoying catching his hair, and skipping across the pond, to ripple it’s waters or dance through the trees above making them sing. Altogether, it was a perfect day.
So far the soundtrack to his afternoon had been chirping birds and the rustling of leaves. It was soothing, and peaceful. Damian had come to adore the sound of leaves gently rustling in the wind, of songbirds feeling safe enough to flit around above him. When he had been with the League animal sounds were few and far between. Any time he’d spent outside lingering had not been long enough for him to really enjoy leaves slipping against one another, or branches tick ticking in time with the wind.
Now, another sound caused Damian to open his eyes, a short quick, ribbit. The sound was not unlike the visual cue shown in picture books he sometimes read to children when helping in the nursery at Wayne Enterprises.
He leaned forward, towards the pond, eyes scanning its waters. It was not a perfect disc of water free of things. This pond was alive. With algae and plant life, and yes even a lily pad or two.
Resting atop one such lily pad, was a small green frog.
It croaked at him again, its tiny body expanding with the noise as its cheeks puffed and it raised slightly.
Damian blinked at it, and it blinked back. And just like that, he had decided what to do next.
Careful, his movements slow and measured so as not to startle the creature, Damian lifted his sketchbook from where it rested, flipping it open. He scooped up his pencil and then laid out on the blanket, resting on his stomach, the book set in front of him, ready to be sketched upon.
From this angle, Damian could see the water sparkling in the sun, and the drift of algae, and the little frog still singing his own song of ribbits, blinking contentedly at him in the warm sunlight.
Damian started with the frog, sketching it’s body on the lily pad, and roughly outlining the pond around it. His pencil making its own melody of scritch scritches against the thick paper.
“Cain once made me read her a story about a frog like you.” Damian told the creature, attention drifting up to it, “Would you find a little golden ball for me if I lost it?”
He paused to draw again, then, “Todd likes to say that Cain is a princess, perhaps a kiss from her would turn you into a human again?”
He tutted, “No, that is foolish.”
Again, he turned his attention down on the page. Something silly, much akin to that silly image of golden balls and princesses, rose up in him and Damian added a little crown to the frog’s head, rising tall with tiny not quite detailed jewels sparkling across the rim of it. Then he gave it a swooping cape, like that he’d seen in a film once, imagining it to be a rich red and gold.
Beside the lake he drew the rough outline of a figure sitting, and stopped unsure what to add. It was rare Damian created something wholly outside what he was looking at these days. He liked the simple act of recreation, adding to a scene took more thought.
He paused, setting the book aside to look back at the frog. It still rested there blinking.
“Perhaps you are indeed enchanted.” Damian said, his voice whisper soft so he didn’t startle it.
His caution didn’t seem to matter, the frog was quite content on its little spot. He reached out, and poked a finger into the chilly water, skimming across it.
“It would not be unheard of, of course. To have an enchanted frog. Father was turned into a ferret a month ago by a spell from Klarion. The brat had thought it hilarious and it took all day for us to figure out Father would simply change back on his own.”
He paused, “In fairness, it was funny after the fact. Father makes a terrible ferret.”
“So yes, maybe you are magicked. If you are a human trapped in a frog’s body, blink twice.”
It was foolish of course, fairy tales, and fantasies of silly childish things. Enchanted frogs more so. Still, as Damian lay there, his finger tracing patterns in the water, the frog indeed blinked twice at him.
Damian blinked in response, his mouth dropping open in a little ‘o’.
“Are you truly enchanted?” he asked, now pushing himself up on his elbows to eye the creature closer.
“Ribbit.” it responded, as if it were saying “Yes of course.”
His heart sped up a little at that. Was Damian dreaming, or did the frog really seem to be responding to him? He stared at it, like that would break the spell or force the truth into his mind through sheer willpower.
“Forgive me for pestering, but I must be sure.” Damian said, “Again, I ask, if you are enchanted, blink twice.”
And wonder of wonders, it did.
Now Damian’s heart really beat quickly. Rapid with excitement and the magic of the moment. He kept telling himself it was silly. That this was all coincidence and the frog was simply being a frog while Damian was reading into the situation. A silly boy, dreaming of silly things as he sat bored and waiting on a brother far too late already.
Wait. Damian froze, the thought sneaking into his mind like Batman creeping through a building. Was this frog--
“ Richard? ” Damian breathed.
And the frog made a little ribbit sound again, puffing itself up with some pride.
It could not be. It quite simply could not be.
He scrambled, pushing himself up from where he’d been propped to sit on legs bent under him as he leaned towards the pond and the frog --who was most certainly not his brother, because it could not be him-- and stared.
The frog had not moved, instead it tilted its head in a decidedly unfroglike way.
Okay. Okay. Damian could handle this. It was not the first time a family member had been magically turned into an animal. And if he were being honest with himself it would not be the last. Had he not just told the frog--or Richard-- of Father’s latest ferret adventures?
Everything Damian had told the frog from the start flooded back to Damian, and up his cheeks in a wave of embarrassment. He was mortified . He had spoken to Richard as if he were an animal. And had admitted so much.
“Richard!” Damian cried, angry, “Why did you not announce yourself sooner?”
The frog croaked at him again and gave a little hop, as if to say “Oh? And just how was I supposed to do that Damian?” or maybe Damian was just projecting again.
He huffed, “Well come now. I cannot leave you on that pond all day. Swim over here.”
The lily pad was situated too far into the lake for Damian to be able to reach out and retrieve his brother, but thankfully Richard listened to him. He hopped off the lily pad and swam over to him. It was strange to watch him swim as a frog and yet be Richard as well.
When he was close enough, Damian reached into the water and scooped his brother out with both hands. He received a grateful ribbit from his brother.
Damian leaned back on his heels and looked at the little frog in his palms. His webbed feet were ticklish against Damian’s skin, his body an odd texture.
“Now, just how did you get yourself turned into a frog?” Damian queried, not really expecting his brother to answer.
Richard shuffled into a kind of shrug. Damian did not think frogs could actually shrug, so this seemed to be the best answer he would be getting.
“The better question is how to turn you back.”
Richard nodded, spilling a little water that had pooled atop his head onto Damian’s hands.
The inane idea of actually asking Cain to kiss Richard popped back into Damian’s head, making him blush furiously.
“Stupid fairy tales.” Damian mumbled.
The croaking noise Richard issued at that, sounded an awful lot like a laugh.
“Hush. This is all your fault.” Damian said, face growing even hotter.
He shifted a bit, the blanket slipping under his feet. His planned day with his brother was now ruined in the face of this transformation. He could not simply leave Richard like this. Something would of course have to be done.
Yet. Damian was loath to leave all his plans behind. They were supposed to have picnicked and spent the day outside together. Damian was not sure his brother as a frog would make the best of companions. But he also thought it an interesting idea. At least Richard would not talk his ear off.
“I guess I should take you to Father. He will know what to do.” Damian said, casting another look at the picnic site.
“Not that he seemed to know what to do when it was his turn as an animal.”
Richard shook his head.
“What?” Damian asked, surprised.
Richard hopped out of his palms, onto his arm, leg and then the blanket itself before hopping across the blanket. He stopped at one of the cushions Damian had laid out for them to sit on. With two tries he managed to hop up onto the cushion and settle in. His tongue flicked out towards the basket.
Damian had to laugh at the site, the noise a surprised little burst, “Are you saying we should finish our picnic first, then go to Father?”
Richard gave a confirming ribbit.
“Are you certain? Is time not of the essence to get you changed back?”
Again his frog-brother shook his head.
“I wish I knew the rules of this enchantment, but I trust you. If you believe this to be the correct path then I guess we will have a picnic.”
Careful not to bump or kick or jostle his brother on the cushion in any way, Damian pulled food from the basket Alfred had packed for them earlier that day. Sandwiches, and fruit, and cheese had all been packed carefully, though Damian only removed about half the items. Richard was far too small to eat the full share that had been packed for him.
Damian worried then about what frogs could and could not eat. Was it different for frogs that were human? Did Grayson simply need wait for a fly to come by? Or would egg salad be fine for him?
“I do not suppose whoever enchanted you told you what was safe to eat?” Damian asked him.
Richard shook his head and Damian hummed.
“Then I am afraid you will simply have to wait for a bug to fly or crawl by.”
His brother released a somewhat grumpy but resigned croak. At least, that’s what Damian thought it was supposed to be.
“I will not let you risk your health just to have a very underwhelming bite of egg.” Damian told him, firm.
His brother shot his tongue out at him almost like a swat.
“Richard!” Damian cried, but also could not stop himself laughing.
It was quite ridiculous, their whole situation. He really should have taken Richard to the house and Father, but this was also nice. And he did trust his brother. They had time.
“Would you like me to put on some music to fill the silence?” Damian asked.
Richard gave a little croak Damian took as a yes. He opened the music app on his phone and began one of his more relaxing playlists. A collection of instrumental music from around the world. It was made up of mostly winds or flute type instruments and one of his favorite playlists to read to.
He knew Richard would have preferred something with words, and a more exciting tempo, but Damian could not quite bring himself to play that sort of music. If Richard were Richard and not a frog, then he would sing along. He could not do that in his current state.
They sit and listened to the music as Damian ate, working his way through two egg salad sandwiches and an orange. Richard caught a grasshopper as it tried to sneak past and seemed satisfied with his achievement.
While Damian ate, Richard decided he had grown too dry and returned to the pond, swimming in circles where Damian could still see and reach him if he needed to. As he did, he kept up a steady stream of frog conversation, chirping and ribbiting and making all kinds of noises.
If Damian had thought his day would be quieter with his brother turned into a frog, he was quickly being proven wrong. Somehow, Richard still seemed to be a chatterbox even when he could not be understood.
By the time he finished his lunch and packed up any remaining food, his brother was returning from his swim. He was once again dripping wet and looked quite pleased over it.
Full now, Damian was in little hurry to do much more than sit and enjoy the sun. It danced through the leaves above him and kissed his skin in a way that was perfect. He was not sweaty or feeling gross, the cool air helped with that while the sunlight made sure the air never chilled him too much.
“Ribbit.” Richard said, catching Damian’s attention.
He was by Damian’s copy of Northanger Abbey, and poking it with a foot.
“Would you like me to read to you?” Damian asked, then frowned, “I do not know if that is quite a good idea. We really should be getting inside.”
Richard gave him another insistent ribbit and Damian sighed. It seemed his brother was really intent on making sure their day was not ruined by something as (apparently) trivial as being turned into a frog. It was sweet, and totally his brother. They both knew that the moment Damian carried him into the manor their peace, quiet, and brotherly bonding time would be gone in favor of chaos.
Father would be worried, Pennyworth concerned, and Drake delighted. Of course within the hour the whole family would know, and Todd would arrive to see what was going on, Brown and Cain would coo over Richard, and Thomas would attempt to mediate while also doing his best to spend some time with Richard. It would be the ferret incident all over again.
“You know, you are much better at being a frog than Father was at being a ferret.” Damian told him, smirking.
Richard bobbed his head in agreement.
Damian let himself be convinced to sit and read a while with his brother. He scooted back on the blanket to rest his back against the trunk of the tree and took the book up in his hands to crack it open. Richard croaked to get his attention again before he could start.
“Yes?”
His brother hopped over to him, and then up onto his arm, before pointing a single foot up towards Damian’s shoulder.
“You wish to sit atop my shoulder while I read?”
The answer was obvious, so Damian folded the book closed again, and held his free un-frog adorned hand out to his brother. Richard gracefully hopped up into his palm and Damian lifted him up to his shoulder, to place him gently down. He was careful as he did this, not wanting his brother to fall. He might be bouncy, but he was also tiny, and a fall from even a height like Damian’s torso would most likely not be pleasant.
“There, now may I read?”
Richard answered by snuggling up to his neck. It was not as comfortable as Damian wished it to be. Richard was a bit slimy from the pond water still and clammy, his skin chilled instead of warm. But his presence was comforting all the same.
Damian gave Richard a brief overview of what he’d read so far in the book, which was little, and the characters before starting in.
The day was so warm, and the activity so pleasant that eventually tiny little puffs came from Damian’s shoulder. He glanced down to find Richard asleep. Damian smiled at that and held back a chuckle, sure the movement would wake his companion.
He picked up the book again, and read quietly now. With each page Damian found himself yawning and sleepy. A nap, perhaps, would not be too bad an idea. Or maybe not a nap, but a moment of quiet.
Tucking a finger between the pages of his book, Damian closed it to lean his head back and close his eyes, enjoying the way the sunlight cast red and shadows through his eyelids. All too soon, he found himself nodding off.
When he woke, he and Richard were still tucked under the tree, and the sun had shifted quite a ways across the sky. At this point, Damian was fully aware that neither of them could dally any longer. He needed to get Richard inside and the family informed.
His brother was still asleep on his shoulder, so Damian gently lifted him from there, before cupping him in both hands. He was still cool, and seemed relatively fine for his time spent outside the water. Perhaps the shade of the tree had kept him secure.
Once again, thoughts of fairy tales from earlier came to mind as Damian looked at the little frog in his hands. On impulse more than anything, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss atop his brother’s head. Sure that, asleep, Richard would never know of this little moment of belief.
It was, apparently, enough to break whatever spell had been cast over his brother. In the next instant after Damian’s lips had left the strangely smooth skin of Grayson’s head, the little frog in his palms started to glow, and grew so hot Damian dropped him in surprise.
The glow grew and grew until it was Richard sized, and then faded away, dropping his brother to the ground in a heap. Richard was thankfully fully clothed, and hand landed on his stomach, with his face pressed into the blanket. His fall had kicked over the basket, and sent a water bottle tumbling to the ground. It rolled about a foot before catching on a stone.
Damian shot forward, on his hands and knees, “Richard!”
His brother groaned, but turned his head to smile at Damian. He looked a bit dazed, though fine. Damian breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back. After a moment, Richard pushed himself up, to sit on the blanket, still looking quite a bit out of it.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking Richard all up and down, searching for anything that might be amiss.
For a moment his brother was quiet again, then without bothering to move much, he waved Damian closer. Damian did as he was bid, and leaned over again.
“Yes? Do you need something, I can get you some wate--ahh!” he yelped as Richard reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.
Damian fell forward, against his brother’s somewhat damp chest, and then lay there, equally happy the spell had been broken. He wrapped his own arms around Richard’s torso and squeezed.
“I am happy you are okay.” he said, his voice quiet.
Richard hummed, and dropped his chin to Damian’s hair, “Thanks.”
After a moment, Damian pulled back, still a bit anxious in his concern. It must have been obvious, because his brother gave him a reassuring smile and a real shrug of his shoulders.
“I’m fine, Dames. Really hungry, but fine.” Richard told him, reaching out to ruffle his hair.
Damian swatted at his hand half heartedly, and instead of pushing it away, he tangled their fingers together.
“You are certain?”
Richard nodded, “I am curious though, what changed me back? Was it just us sleeping next to each other?”
For yet another time that day, Damian felt heat in his cheeks. He worked to school the emotion before answering, “No, I--”
His brother figured it out before Damian could voice the words, and grinned wide at him, looking for a moment almost like his frog self, “You kissed me! Dames! I can’t believe true love worked in this instance.”
“Who said anything about true love?” Damian scoffed, “It was probably simply time for the spell to wear off. That is all.”
Richard tugged Damian close, first with their entwined hands, then all the way into his chest into another hug. He pressed his own kiss into Damian’s hair,
“I love you too, Kiddo.”
Damian huffed, but did not rebuff the statement, “Yes well. We will still need to inform Father of the incident. And you need to explain how you were turned into a frog in the first place.”
“All in good time.” Richard hummed, “Right now? I’m famished. I don’t know if you know this, but all I’ve had today is a cricket.”
He let go of Damian to reach out and right the toppled basket, and flick open the latch keeping it closed. Damian rolled his eyes, but leaned back against the tree. Richard was already removing all the food from the basket, setting some in front of himself and more by Damian.
"You know," he said, lifting an orange out of the basket to roll between his palms, "If you ever did lose a little golden ball in the pond, I'd be happy to find it for you."
Damian snorted, "As would I for you, Richard."