Chapter Text
Talia glared at the owl on her desk. The feathered beast stared back. For a tense moment, neither moved. Then, when the assassin tilted her head, time seemed to unfreeze. The owl shifted its weight, then presented Talia with the letter it carried.
“I suppose that has come for my son?” The assassin asked, her cold mannerisms off-putting to the animal.
The owl hopped a little closer towards her. Rolling her eyes in disgust for the creature, she took the letter. That was all the response that the owl required as it flew off, knowledgeable that it wouldn’t be returning to Nanda Parbat. She studied the letter, paying special attention to the address written in delicate script.
Mr. H Potter
Prince Suite
Nanda Parbat
Eth Alth’eban
Talia would admit that it was a curious bit of magic, but not so much as to truly peak her interest. She had adequate knowledge of the magic quill that transcribed the addresses of all Hogwarts students. The quill was enchanted to find the students with ease, but with extreme security due to some sort of a wizard war so that no one could see it by any means.
The assassin was suddenly struck with relief. She had discussed her son’s potential magical education with the Potters long before they had been killed. It had been such a tragic occurrence for the young couple. Damian almost had an opportunity for a life of freedom. James and Lily Potter had been such skilled and caring parents for Damian during his formative months leading up to their deaths.
Regardless, Talia thought to herself, the Demon Head had plans for Damian. There simply was no time for her son to receive a frivolous magical education. What a shame. A single tear slid down her face before she straightened and suddenly whirled around, eyes on the young maid that had been sweeping dutifully in the hallway outside her door. No signs of any emotion whatsoever showed on the al Ghul’s face.
“Dispose of this properly,” Talia snapped at the servant.
The maid nodded meekly, taking the letter, and rushing off. Talia watched the maid like a hawk, briefly wondering what her beloved son's life would have been like if the Potters had lived. She then snapped to attention. There was no room in her mind for ridiculous thoughts. She had places to be and a son to speak to.
Talia gracefully walked to her son’s designated room. She lingered in the doorway, watching as Damian suddenly straightened and turned to face her. She lifted her chin in acknowledgement before stepping in the room and shutting the door with a quiet click. She stalked up to her son, studying his mannerisms for any sign of weakness. His eyes met hers with a steely gaze before she spotted the unusual waterieness in his eyes.
Talia wrapped her arms around her baby boy and hugged him. He relaxed as she held him, yet still didn’t allow himself any break in his resolve. She almost chuckled to herself as she realized that his arms were only barely long enough to wrap around her. He was still small enough that she had to bend down to console him. Her son still had some growing up to do. But Talia wouldn’t be around to witness it. Her expression fell, molding her face into a more neutral tone.
“I will assume that you are done packing?” She questioned, loosening her grip and meeting her son’s gaze once more.
“Yes, Mother,” Damien replied, stepping away and resuming a soldier’s stance, “I began my preparations as soon as you told me I was to leave.”
Talia reached out a hand to rest on his head; another simple reassurance. She would sorely miss his absence, and Talia had no doubt that her son would miss her as well.
“Tonight is your final stay in Nanda Parbat. Tomorrow, you will be joining your father, the famed Batman, as the heir to his mantle. You must obey his orders, and follow his directions. He will ensure that you become your best possible self.” Talia paused as the thought of Damian being free flooded her mind. She shook off the thought and continued her lecture, “Am I understood, Damian?”
Damian nodded sharply, never taking his eyes off her face as his determined expression grew. Talia sighed, pulling her son closer and stroking his hair. She would miss her son greatly.
She bent down to whisper in his ear, “If it were up to me, you would be by my side for much longer than your grandfather demands.”
Nevertheless, both mother and son were forced to obey the Demon Head. Regardless of Talia’s desires, Ra’s al Ghul would never allow his grandson any weakness, including his familial bond with Talia.
She separated herself from her son, pressing a light kiss to his temple before turning away from him and exiting out the door. Talia hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that Damian would never forget that she cared. Even though she knows her Beloved, Bruce, will soften her son’s heart, Talia would always be Damian’s Mother. And she would always be proud of her son’s survival. Damian is Talia’s son, and she would always want to keep him, no matter how selfish of her to keep her son away from his father.
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Damian knew that that would be the last time that he saw his beloved Mother. He was aware that his stay with the famed Batman, his Father , would be permanent until Damian could prove himself efficiently enough to be welcomed back to his grandfather’s domain.
Damian had thought that Father would be some sort of godlike creature. Something more than human, better than anything that the League could possibly offer. Ultimately, Damian had expected more . His Mother had spoken about the Batman with a quiet reverence, which had made Damian’s expectations soar. He had expected a demigod. And all Damian could see was a man. It was… disappointing to say the least.
Damian was aware of the fact that this would be his final interaction with his Mother, and that fact alone made his step falter. He had many questions, but Damian knew better. Ra’s al Ghul’s words were final. No one questioned the Demon Head and lived. Still, questions lingered on the tip of his tongue, begging him to ask his Mother. Surely if this was necessary, his Mother could come with him. It wasn’t as if it was unheard of for Talia to temporarily stay in Batman’s territory.
But the young assassin could not bring himself to taint this final moment with his Mother. So Damian shook off his reservations, squared his shoulders and held himself with the air of a king, just as he was taught. However, Damian could not help the singular thought that slipped from his lips.
“I assumed that Batman would be taller.”
Damian stared at his would-be Father. The man returned his gaze, lingered for a moment, and then turned to Mother. Damian watched as the two seasoned warriors glared at each other. Finally, Batman was the one to detach his glare. Mother shifted and gestured to Damian.
“You will train him. He will evolve under your tutelage.” Mother said, phrasing the sentence as an order. Father did not seem amused.
“You hid my own child from me, raised him without my knowledge, and yet you want me to take him now.”
Damian scowled at his Father’s tone. For all of the famed Great Detective’s skills, he did not understand.
Damian, of course, did understand. While his Mother may seem cruel, by Father’s assumptions, Damian knew that his Mother was heartbroken by his departure. Father also assumed that Damaian would have rather been with him rather than his Mother. A quite obvious incompetence on his part.
Damian did not want to be in Gotham. He did not want to leave his Mother. He wanted to learn the man’s skills, of course, but Damian did not think that the skills of Batman were worth the loss of his Mother.
But Damain would not appear weak and ungrateful. Ra’s al Ghul would never allow weakness in his grandson. The Demon’s Head would rather kill Damian than allow his heir to appear weak.
“Mother,” Damian began, hardening his expression and ignoring his Father, “I will gather my belongings.”
Damian turned, his steps quiet and light as he walked down the stairs to the rooms below. As he did so, he heard his Father address his Mother. The young assassin could not bring himself to care about this intentional exclusion. Whatever Batman thought that he could not speak in Damaian’s presence would be uncovered soon enough. He would allow his parents the time to speak. Damian continued his path, gathering his bags and coming back up the steps.
When Damian returned to the deck of the ship, his Father stood scowling at Mother. Mother did not seem concerned by whatever topic was discussed, and instead turned to Damian. She briefly studied her son, one last time, before slowly nodding to him.
While Damian knew that this was the signal for Mother’s departure, he did not want it to be so. After this moment, Domain would be trapped in Gotham until he could be good enough to be released from his Father’s tutelage.
In that moment, there was nothing that Damian desired more than to be in his Mother’s warm embrace, taken back to what he knew and away from the unknown. But Mother did not look back at Damian. She turned sharply and walked away from her son. Talia al Ghul would never dare to show any weakness to the Bat, and she would want Damian to portray the same.
So he shook off his childish desires and straightened his stance, meeting Father’s gaze as he awaited further instructions. Damian could tell that Father was judging him on the deepest level. As Father suddenly turned away, breaking the gaze between them, Damian knew that he had failed whatever inspection had just occurred.
From that point on, Damian knew he would have to prove himself to this man. No matter the cost, he would force Father to train him. Damian would follow all his instructions to the letter, obeying, and succeeding where no one else could. He would make Mother proud, and make Father respect him.
“Follow me,” Father grunted, finally addressing the small boy.
Damian shadowed the man’s steps and tried to mimic his gait. As he did so, he took the opportunity to study his surroundings. The city was disgusting. It was obnoxiously filled with the sounds of blaring cars and wailing sirens as well as the smell of rancid garbage and rotten pollution. He could not understand why Batman would willingly choose to stay in such a place, unless it was part of a training or mission.
Father begrudgingly stated that Damian was being taken to the ‘Batmobile’ in order to bring him to the ‘Batcave’. It was a shock to hear a grown man label his belongings with such seriousness. Damian almost wanted to check his English, just to be sure that his translating skills were impeccable as usual. But of course, he knew that his English was nearly perfect, just as was expected of him.
The ride was fast and it allowed him a chance to further scrutinize the man in the driver’s seat. He was silent, stern, and showed slight concern in his side-eyed glances. Obviously, Father either believed that he was powerful enough to show this sign of weakness or it was a test to encourage Damaian to prove that he was strong enough to be trained. Why else would Batman show concern for Damian? It is not as if Damian was a mere child, unable to fend for himself.
Once they arrived in the so-called ‘Batcave’, Damian was met with a sight of three people, an older man, a young man, and a boy, near the large computer by the back wall. Damian recognized them immediately. Mother would not allow him to go into any situation without proper preparation, of course.
The eldest man was the servant, with whom Batman holds in high regards, although the man was old and frail. Richard Grayson, the first Robin, was a ward of Father, and was not in the way of Damian gaining Father’s trust. However, the youngest of the group was Damian’s main obstacle. Timothy Drake was the current Robin, holder of a title that should only belong to Damian, as was his birthright as the blood son of Batman.
All three of the so-called ‘Bat family’ stared as Damian entered. He could feel their gazes, dissecting him, so Damian did the same. Pennyworth seemed useless, both as a servant past his prime, and a soldier with no weapon. Grayson was unnecessary, as he didn’t operate in Gotham and likely would not stay for long. Drake was weak and unworthy of holding the title of Robin. Father strided past Damian and headed straight to the computer. The servant moved aside, allowing Father full access to the screen.
“We will be running a test to check the validity of your mothers claims,” Father said, finally addressing Damian. Damian’s eye twitched in anger.
“You dare to question Mother’s word?” Damian asked aggressively.
Father merely hmm’d and turned back to the screen. Damian clenched his fists. How dare Batman stand there and ignore his blood heir? How dare he imply that Mother was a liar?
“Whoa, there, little guy, don’t worry about Bruce.” Grayson spoke up, raising his hands in a placating manner, “He’s just a little paranoid.”
Now Damian’s rage was turned to Grayson, “You would dare to insult Father? You, who has no true bond to him? You, who has no right to any form of respect from Batman? Tt. You are a incompetent imbecile.”
“Hey, you can’t just barge in here and insult Dick like that!” Drake foolishly tried to defend Grayson’s honor.
“Tt. And who are you to assume that I can’t? I am the Blood Son, and you are a mere stand-in, borrowing a title that will soon be mine.” Damian boasted, confident in his abilities.
Drake stared at Damian, an expression of… sadness? growing on his face. Damian stared back, uncertain. Why would the boy take any of his comments to heart? Clearly by now Drake would be aware of his upcoming replacement? Or maybe Drake was merely a softhearted fool? Domain watched, uncertain as Grayson put his arm around Drake, expressing a form of brotherly love for the younger. The affection made something twist within Damian. All of his past affection had been from his Mother, and now he would not see her again for quite some time.
“Damian.” Batman addressed him for the first time, causing Damian to slip back into his soldier’s stance, “Be nice to your brothers. You won’t be getting any position in this family if you can’t behave.”
Damian glowered at Batman’s chastising tone, “They are no brothers of mine.”
Later, this thought continued to be present in his mind as he was tested, proven, and sent to his new room. It influenced his desires to be the best and made him almost question his opinion on Grayson and Drake. Little did he know, no sooner than six months later, he would come to call them his family, and Dick and Tim would be his brothers.