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Despite being sent to the middle nowhere to hide from the Court of Owls and recover from Bruce’s death, Dick still had to go to school. Life was so unfair. The teachers that Damian had found taught more interesting things that Dick had been learning at Gotham Academy, but the fun of school came from being around other kids, and recess, and running around. Not learning.
When he told Damian, eyes wide and sad, Damian directed him to the courtyard where Damian’s people sparred. Dick’s pouting looks did affect Damian as much as Jason and Tim, Dick learned quickly. Another unfair bit about being with the League of Assassins. Damian was too much like Alfred, but with less smiles and a different accent.
But Dick had nothing better to do, so he went to the courtyard after his studies were finished. Dick could begrudgingly admit that watching the sparring sessions was fun. Damian’s people were skilled, some even better than Batman. Dick knew that all his brothers had trained with the League at one point or another, and he could see familiar movements. It was cool.
One man in particular caught Dick’s attention. He was large, but he could move so fast. Dick’s Arabic wasn’t great, but from body language and the little pieces of dialogue that Dick could understand, Dick was pretty sure the large man acted as a teacher. There were only a few opponents that the man fought without holding himself back.
On the third day of watching the man, Dick decided to introduce himself. He crawled out of his hiding spot and walked over to where the man was sharpening his blade. “Hello!” Dick said.
The man did not pause in his task. “Hello, little one. Are you done hiding in the shadows?” The man’s voice was deep and mechanical, probably because of the mask he wore.
“You knew I was there?” Dick said.
“One must always be aware of their surroundings,” the man said. “What brings you to the sparring ring? Do you wish to learn?”
“Maybe later. It’s just fun to watch,” Dick said, plopping down on the bench next to the man. “I’m Dick. What’s your name?”
“They call me Bane,” the man said.
“That’s a swell name!” Dick said. “Everyone here has such cool names.”
“Many us are made new in the League of Assassins,” Bane said. “With that renewal, we are often renamed.”
“I hope I don’t get a new name,” Dick said, wrinkling his nose. “The Court of Owls wanted me to forget my name, but I like, ‘cause it’s mine, y’know?”
“Names have power,” Bane said.
“Dick!” Damian strode up to them. “There you are. You’re late for dinner.”
“Sorry!” Dick said, jumping to his feet. “It was nice to meet, Mr. Bane, sir.”
Bane’s laughter was rumbling. “Bane is fine, little one. Come to here tomorrow evening, and I can assess your skills.”
“Sounds fun!” Dick said. “Bye!”
He grabbed Damian’s hand and skipped all the way to dinner.
+++
A few weeks later, Tim came to check in Dick.
“Is he…holding hands with Bane?” Tim asked Damian, as a reality.
Dick alternated between waving at Tim and trying to pull Bane – Bane – by the hand over to where Tim and Damian sat. And Bane was letting him, though not walking as fast as Dick would obviously like.
“They have formed a connection,” Damian said. “Bane is rather good with children.”
“When he isn’t killing them,” Tim said skeptically.
“Dick is under my protection,” Damian said, “just as I was under my mother’s protection in my childhood.”
“Wait,” Tim said. “You and Bane, what, played together when you were a kid?”
“Yes,” Damian said. “He was close to my mother and took an older brother role until my grandfather excommunicated him, and I was sent to live with Father.”
“Huh,” Tim said. “That’s a weird image.”
“Hey, Tim!” Dick said when got near, still holding Bane’s hand. “This is Bane!”
“I know,” Tim said, raising an eyebrow at Bane. Bane looked calmly back.
“Bane, this is my big brother, Tim!” Dick said cheerfully.
“We have met,” Bane said.
“From when Tim was here?” Dick asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“No,” Bane said. “We met on the battlefield.”
“You broke my arm,” Tim said.
Bane dipped his head in agreement. “And yet Batman won the battle.”
Dick looked between with obvious concern. “But…but you guys aren’t fighting now, right?”
“Yes, little one, he and Gotham are safe by the demon head’s order,” Bane said.
“Great!” Dick said, all smiles again.
Tim didn’t like Bane’s phrasing. He was under no illusion that if Damian was ever replaced by a more blood-thirsty leader, the League of Assassins would not hesitate to invade Gotham again. But from Bane’s glances at Dick, maybe they could just use Dick’s puppy dog eyes to ward off the murderous terrorists.