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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Drawlloween 2022
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Published:
2022-10-03
Words:
1,618
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
4
Kudos:
79
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The Fortune Smeller

Summary:

Dick takes Damian to a carnival for some training, even if Damian doesn't know that's what it is.

Work Text:

Most kids would be thrilled that an older sibling decided to take them to a carnival.

Then again, Damian wasn’t “most kids” and his older sibling was being ridiculous.

“I’m not a child to be placated with sugar, Grayson.”

“Sure you are,” Dick said, taking the funnel cakes from the vendor.  “Here, eat before your face sticks like that.”

Damian frowned harder but accepted the monstrous confection handed to him.  “This cannot be healthy.”

“There’s fruit.  Besides, it won’t kill you,” Dick said, taking a bite of his own.  He moaned aloud, closing his eyes to savor the taste.

“You are embarrassing, Grayson.”

“You just don’t know a good thing when you get it.”  Dick waved his free hand.  “Come on.  Mangia, mangia.”

Damian sighed but took a small bite.  He could always feed what was left to Grayson; the man seemed to have an iron stomach.

The first bite was… odd.  Damian had never tasted anything quite like it.  Sweet, of course, but a little tart with the apple topping Grayson had insisted on.

Hmm.  Better take a second bite, just to confirm that he shouldn’t continue eating this.

That second bite turned into a third, then a fourth, and soon Damian was licking sugar from his fingers and very pointedly not looking at his smiling older brother.

“You will not tell Father about this,” he said, much less fiercely than he had intended.

“Not a word,” Dick said, crossing his heart.  “Come on.  Now that the fun’s over, it’s time to work.”

“Work?”  Damian’s eyes lit up.  “Do you mean we’re here for a case?”

“Sure are.”  Dick settled a hand on Damian’s shoulder, guiding him through the crowd.  “First stop, the fortune teller’s tent.”

They only had to wait a few minutes before the tent flap opened, the suited customer departing in a hurry.

“Come in, gentlemen.”

The fortune teller had on the sort of gaudy outfit that an actor might wear playing such a role—or, honestly, something Grayson might have worn for fun—but what surprised Damian the most was the strange agelessness of the man.  He could have been anywhere between Grayson’s and Father’s age; Damian found that unsettling.

Incense burned in a small lamp hanging near one corner of the tent.  On the table before the fortune teller laid a crystal ball in its base, a deck of cards, a mirror, and low bowl of water.  All of them were out of the main area, but easily within reach for whatever the man might choose.

Dick steered Damian to a seat, planting himself on the right of Damian.  Something was suspicious here, but Damian couldn’t put his finger on it.

“And which of you would like your fortune read first?”

Dick handed over two bills.  “He will.”

Damian shot his brother a glare, but nodded.

“For you, I shall read the cards.”  The man shuffled the deck easily, watching Damian as he did.  Damian did his best to stare back, but the man seemed unintimidated.  “Choose three cards and lay them down in front of you face down.”

Damian glanced at Grayson, but did as he was told.

Setting aside the deck, the fortune teller turned over the first card.

“The past shows Death.  A great change has come to you, a new life perhaps.”

He turned the second.

“The present shows the Ace of Swords.  You are a fighter, but you must choose how to wield your weapons.”

He turned the third and laughed softly.

“The future shows The Fool. You have a long journey ahead of you, one you must be open to.”

Damian glanced at Grayson.  Was this man making fun of him?  But Grayson seemed to be content, not smiling as though he was in on some joke against Damian, but rather as if he’d learned something new.

“And now me?”

“I shall read your palm.”

Dick arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.  He held out his hands.

“Would you please remove your jewelry?”

That got Damian’s attention.  Grayson never wore jewelry, but there he was, removing a ring and setting it on the table.

Something suspicious was going on here.

The fortune teller traced his fingertips over Dick’s palms in a way that was far too intimate for Damian’s liking.

“You have a long life line, but it’s broken.  That shows you have an independent nature.  Your heart line is broken, too, but deep.  You have had many partners, each having a profound effect on you.  You love deeply and quickly.  Your fate line… you have gone through some upheaval, or perhaps it is still ongoing.”

He took Dick’s right hand, clasping it between his own, and looked Dick straight in the eyes.  “You are using your life well, but remember that it is yours and no one else’s.”

Grayson flinched.

Just barely.

In fact, if Damian hadn’t been watching his face, he would have missed it, but Grayson flinched.

It was time to leave.

“Grayson, I desire to ride the roller coaster,” he announced abruptly.

That broke Dick out of his strange mood.

“Sure thing, kiddo.”  Dick pulled his hand back and smiled at the fortune teller.  “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” the man said, watching them as they left.

If Damian tugged on Grayson’s hand a little harder than necessary, well, it was only for Grayson’s safety, that was all.

Once they were far enough away from the tent, Damian spoke again.  “What was that about, Grayson?”

“Training,” Dick said.  “Tell me everything you noticed about him.”

Damian blinked.  He hadn’t realized that this was a test.  Was Grayson really so clever when he acted such a fool?

“He’s a fake,” Damian said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel.  “He looks good, but it’s all an act.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you think it’s an act?  I want to hear your reasoning.”

“Anyone could have said I’ve had a change.  No one here even knew about me until a few months ago.  My long journey is because I’m still, regrettably, young.  And as for my being a fighter, well, I know I can be defiant.”

“Good.  You see how he cold read you,” Dick said.  “Continue.”

“Of course you’re independent, Grayson,” Damian said, trying to remember what it was the so-called fortune teller had said.  “As for your love life, everyone who can read knows about your partners.  You’re not very subtle, Grayson.”

Dick grinned.

“Tell me what else you noticed.”

Damian frowned.  There had been so much to notice.  What was it that Grayson was waiting for him to say?  What answer was correct?

“One of the keys of our life is being able to take in everything,” Dick said.  “But also to filter out what’s unnecessary for the moment.  Do you know what you’ve missed?”

“No,” Damian admitted, feeling small.

Dick touched his shoulder.  “Let me tell you what I noticed, then.”

Damian nodded, looking up at him.

“The customer who departed,” Dick began and Damian gasped.  Had he been part of this?  Was he supposed to have noticed him, too?  How much did Grayson expect him to know?

“He was wearing a suit, a casual one, but strange for a carnival,” Dick said.

“Could he have been the carnival owner?” Damian asked.

“Possibly, but I doubt it,” Dick said.  “What I noticed was that he wasn’t wearing a watch.  A suit like that says a businessman, and judging he was about fifty or so, I’d have said he’d have a nice watch.  But he had none.”

Damian frowned.  Was Grayson lying to him?  Damian hadn’t taken enough notice to say.

“Then there’s the teller himself,” Dick continued.  “The first thing I noticed was the odd mix of scents. Patchouli and something else.  Did you notice?”

Damian shook his head.  He had smelled the incense, of course, but he’d assumed that was part of the ambiance.

“It was strong, you probably can still smell it on your clothes.  Or maybe on my hands,” Dick said, offering them up.  That, Damian noticed.

“You took off a ring, Grayson.  But it’s not here.”

“Good, Damian.  Do you know why?”

“You were testing him,” Damian said carefully.  “Because of the man without the watch.”

“Correct!”  Dick smiled.  “When did I put on the ring?”

“When he was reading my cards,” Damian said.  “Because you don’t wear them usually and you weren’t when we ate.”

“Very good!  Why would I have done this?”

“You want to track him,” Damian said, Grayson’s plan clearing in his mind.  “He’s our case.”  He dropped his voice to a whisper.  “Are we returning tonight?”

“Yes, we are, Damian,” Dick said.  “Now, the last question.”  He held out the hand the fortune teller had held.  “What do you smell?”

This would look strange, but Damian didn’t particularly care.  This was a test and he would not fail.

“Funnel cake.”

Dick laughed.  “OK, fair.  What else?”

He turned Dick’s hand over and sniffed again.  “Patchouli and…”

Damian frowned as his tongue tingled and his brain slowed to a crawl, a strange moodiness coming over him.  Dick removed his hand and handed Damian a tissue.

“Blow your nose.”

Damian felt like arguing, but obeyed instead.  Why did he feel so terrible suddenly?

“Fear toxin,” he whispered.

“Excellent!”

Damian stared back in the direction they’d come.  “But that couldn’t be Crane.”

“I’d say the good professor has hit some dire straits,” Dick said.  “Judging by how weak the scent was, I’d say our felonious fortune teller will be going back for a new batch soon.”

“And we’ll be there to stop him,” Damian said, punching his palm.

Dick beamed with pride.

“Come on, Damian.  Let’s head home.  We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

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