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Barbara didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep. It was rather unusual for her, she did, after all, have a well-earned reputation as a distant overlord, perched in her tower, watching at all hours of the night and day, never eating, never sleeping. She grimaced as she felt the dampness on the parchment beneath her face, hopefully she’d knocked over one of the basins of water…Nope. She sighed and sat up.
Oracle, the great spymaster of Gotham and the world beyond, drooled in her sleep.
She blinked at the sudden appearance of a clean towel in her field of vision, following the hand that held it back to Zinda, who grinned at her. “You might want to clean up. You have a visitor.”
Barbara took the towel silently and wiped her face off, dipping the towel in the closest scrying basin to wet it down first. “Who?” she glanced at the mirror hung on the wall, considering if she was awake enough to call up the images that would answer her question.
Zinda just grinned and slipped out of the room. “I’ll let him know you’re awake!”
Barbara had only enough time to decide that it obviously wasn’t The Bat, who would have just appeared in the main room of the tower without being announced when the door creaked open again and Dika slipped through, eyeing the window higher up on the wall warily. Barbara didn’t even try to hide her smirk. She had her tower warded well enough to make Nightwing use the front door sometimes. That was quite the accomplishment and she was going to feel proud of it thank you.
She wheeled away from her work table and across the floor towards Dika, who met her half-way. She frowned a little as she looked at him closer. He had a dazed look on his face, as if he’d had some great shock. She couldn’t think what it might be though, as far as she knew all of the Family were whole and well. “Dika, what’s wrong?”
He dropped onto a bench, so that his eyes were level with hers. “I have some things to tell you.” He was more serious than Barbara had seen him in a long time and she sobered in response. This was not looking like it would be a fun visit full of their usual banter.
He pulled a piece of parchment out of his bag and hesitated before holding it out to her. Barbara searched his face, not sure what she was looking for. There was a light in his eyes that, despite everything else, reassured her and she looked down to the document in her lap.
“This is to witness…” she skimmed the opening niceties swiftly, before coming to a sudden halt. “I, Brutus of the House of Varius, Prince of Gotham and Lord of the Eastern Isles, do release my bondservant Rikárd, son of Jardani and Maireni, from my service, he and his children shall henceforth be free…” She looked up, feeling a little stunned herself. “You’re free.”
It started as a small smile before transforming into his customary blinding grin. “Yeah, I’m free Babs.” He laughed, the sound ringing through the tower like bells. “Your father witnessed the signing last night.” He lifted his left hand and she saw the faint traces of scars left behind by a life-time of having worn a slave-bracelet, now gone forever, the skin was somewhat paler there too. “Brutus has gifted me the management of the estate outside of Blüdhaven. It’s small, but it’s a start.”
One part of her wanted to laugh with him and say “Well, it was about time.” Another part wanted to curl up and cry. Surely, now that he was free, now that he had choices, he would decide he had better things to do than be friends with the crippled seer in the tower.
“It’s a little frightening.” Dika mused, pulling her from her thoughts. He was absently rubbing the scars, unaccustomed to the absence of the bracelet when he was not wearing his Nightwing garb. “I mean,” he looked up again and Barbara was startled to realize that there was worry, if not actual fear in his eyes. “I was born a slave. My parents were born slaves.” He dropped his eyes to his wrist. “What if I mess this all up, I can’t do that to Mar’i.”
Barbara felt a pang of concern in her heart at the mention of Dika’s daughter, now nearing her seventh summer. “You won’t mess it up,” She said firmly. “You have led kings into battle, you can do this.” Her voice softened. “How is she?”
Dika shrugged. “She’s doing well so far. She stayed with Kassandra and Stefa this morning so I could come talk to you. She’s too young to realize exactly what happened, as intelligent as she is. When Brutus took her bracelet off she asked if it meant he didn’t want us anymore.”
Barbara nodded and watched. That would be a fear close to Dika’s heart too. The look he gave her was peaceful though, and a little excited, if nervous. For once, Brutus must have said the right things.
“I’m very happy for you.” She gave him a smile back, ignoring the nagging fears at the back of her mind. “Both of you. You should have been freed long before this.”
Dika shook his head. “Maybe, but that isn’t really important.” He drew a deep breath and Babs steeled herself. This is it, he’s going to go out the door, or window more likely, and not come back. Maybe he’ll take Mar’ini and go find Koriand’r. Or maybe...
She blinked. When did Dika go from sitting to kneeling, and why was he looking at her like that.
“I knew it wasn’t possible before,” Dika said quietly, tracing patterns on the back of her hand with his fingers. “But I’m a freedman now and,” he hesitated, his eyes holding hers in a pleading gaze. “If you could find it in yourself-“
He reached into his tunic and removed a slender golden arm ring with small birds engraved upon it. “This was my mother’s. My father and I saved tips for two years to buy it for her.” He smiled and looked up at her. “I dreamt about this for years.” He said softly. “It was all I wanted, to be able to ask you,” he leaned in a little closer, turning her hand, palm up, and gently placing the arm ring in it. “Barbara, my best friend, who was never ashamed of me. Would you allow me the undeserved honor of your hand in marriage?”
Her breath caught in her throat, a thousand objections, a thousand reasons why it could not be. “My father-” she finally managed to gasp out, her eyes still fixed upon the shimmering object in her hand.
“I spoke with him last night.” Dika said. “He says the choice is yours.”
She gave a sobbing little laugh. “But…my chair-”
“I don’t care about the chair, Babs.” Dika said in his firm, Nightwing voice. “You are as strong and courageous and beautiful as you ever were.”
For a moment, Barbara wavered, caught between two paths. Something moved on the surface of the arm ring and made a shape that began telling a story, or two stories rather, two lives that might be lived. Barbara watched, knowing that what she was Seeing was different from anything she had Seen before. When it was finished, she looked up and smiled.
“Yes.”