Chapter Text
The further from home they traveled, the more clouds Tim could count dotting the skies, their color slowly giving way from fluffy cotton to a dark grey that promised a very damp arrival to the city. Though he knew what rain could feel like against his skin on the stormiest nights back home, he couldn’t help but wonder what the storms would feel like in Gotham. Redding had always been deceitfully cold despite the sunny days and thin clouds overhead, so maybe Gotham would be the opposite, deceitfully warm with its dreary weather. A part of him wondered if even just standing out in the middle of the fields would feel so entirely different from how it felt to sprawl within the confines of his families property.
A smaller part of him wondered if being high up in the clouds would be as enjoyable as he imagined. Something about the idea of dipping in between the gray giants felt so much more inviting that the fluffy white or near empty blue that filled the skies back home.
The young boy shook the images away as soon as they began to flood his brain, turning his attention downward towards the path underneath him that he could just barely see through the tiny window.
The road from Redding, home to the Drake’s family estate as well as the territory his father controlled under the King, was a long, arduous journey filled with improperly kept dirt roads that were only occasionally intersected by their more pristine, gravel paved counterparts.
From within the confines of the carriage, Tim could see the obvious difference between home and the capital city, even if they had not quite reached the outskirts of said city.
He had grown up hearing all sorts of tales of Gotham. Varying stories of affection and fear from the staff at Drake Manor had filled many lonely nights while both of his parents had been away for business. Most of the older members of the staff, people like Mrs. Mac who had grown up in the streets of the capital and later moved away from the tightly packed streets of such a dreary coastal city, told stories of dark, gloomy nights that held so many untold horrors that a much younger Tim had abhorred the thought of ever stepping foot into such a city. Others, mostly the staff who had visited the capital in recent years alongside his parents, had begun to tell him stories of warm rains with protective silhouettes following alongside them in the night.
Having never visited the capital on his own, Tim could only make educated guesses on what he was to expect. A part of him was inclined to heed people like Mrs. Mac’s advice. After all, they had lived this long on their years of wisdom and experience. How wrong could they be? But another part of him reminded him that the current King hadn’t been around when Mrs. Mac and the others were still living in Gotham. Only some of the younger staff that still traveled frequently with his parents had been within the city under his rule.
It wasn’t like Tim had much experience touring different cities, or even one city. There was no prior experience to give him any sort of idea on what he could expect from such a large city. At the young age of thirteen, Tim had never truly left Drake Manor. He had been housed in its long halls for as long as he could remember, only ever venturing as far as the distant fence line of his parents vast property.
Janet and Jack Drake making the decision that he was to accompany them on their visit to the capital and leaving in of itself had been a surprise for him, and something that had been giving him a great deal of moments spent tense and watching, waiting for something to go wrong. He was still waiting to be sent home by his parents, to hide away within the safety of the walls of the manor even six hours into their journey.
The time spent tense and waiting was only giving him more time to think of what could go wrong and force them to send him back. Most of what he imagined could go wrong revolved entirely around the stories he had heard of the capital. Which meant that deciding what he was more inclined to believe had been a driving cause behind his headache, and subsequent discomfort, for a majority of the carriage ride.
Of course, that wasn’t his only discomfort.
His bound chest, white bandages wrapped as tightly as they could to press against the pale skin of his back, had grown itchy and irritated the longer he tried to sit still.
Every limb was aching to move, to stretch in the free air outside of the carriage doors after the long hours of sitting straight up in his seat, but his back was especially painful. Every small bump in the road had begun to send small twinges up and through his spine, bring a dull pain that spread from just below the nape of his neck. The pain had steadily drifted lower and lower, and was beginning to make his whole spine lock up every few minutes.
If he was not so accustomed to his parents lessons of presenting himself like the lord he was, and the Duke he would be once he was of age, he would have caved into the urge to curl in on himself ages ago. In fact, a small part of him, not paying any heed to his pain or panic for the journey to Gotham, was already imagining how lovely alone time would be once they reached the castle. He would finally be able to undo his wrappings and stretch out his stiff limbs!
Just thinking of the eventual relief from sitting ramrod straight in his seat was enough to ease the lordings mind, even if only a little.
Though, it was not long before his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rapping against the ceiling of the carriage, making Tim’s whole body jerk in surprise, his head immediately tilting up to look towards the source of the sound. He only dimly noted that both of his parents, who had been discussing something between themselves on the bench across from him nearly the whole trip, finally paused their conversation long enough to listen.
“Only about few more miles, My Lord. Best prepare to alight from the carriage.” The footman’s voice was rather muffled through the wood, yet it brought an off mix of relief through Tim nonetheless.
He was almost free to step out of the carriage, even if it meant he would be stepping foot into an unfamiliar city for the first time.
“Timothy, do quit that. It’s unrefined.” His mother’s scowling features interrupted his momentary joy, making him snap back into awareness. She was giving him a rather shrewd look, continuing to make the face until he realized what, exactly, she had meant.
In his relief, he had accidentally slouching into his seat, and still had a look of shock across his face from the sudden intrusion. He was quick to rearrange himself, and apologetic look already creasing his brow as he dipped his head.
“Sorry, Mother,” the words were mumbled low enough that she merely sighed, a sound that seemed to come up from the depth of her patience as her eyelids fluttered with the action. She waited until Tim repeated his apology more clearly before glancing over to her husband.
Jack rolled his eyes, leveling Tim with a searching look that only lasted a few moments. “You remember the rules?”
“Keep my head down, speak politely to everyone, even when I do not recognize their name or status-” the list was second nature by now, something the Drakes had drilled into their heir long before the thought of him leaving the manors walls was even conceptual. Tim thought he was reciting them perfectly, as he usually would, before his father interrupted him mid sentence.
“Regarding the Royal family, Timothy. I trust you to behave well enough around the other aristocrats.”
The dull ache that had taken shelter along his spine seemed to sharpen at the reminder of who resided in the castle they would be visiting.
Somehow, in the haste of packing his trunk and the anxiety that came with traveling for the very first time, he had not remembered to even give the Royal family a second thought.
His brain stuttered back into motion, rapidly firing off notes of a rising panic alongside the long, long list of expectations that would come with them.
“I- of course. I am to-”
“Are you sure you’re ready to meet them?” His mother’s words were clinical, assessing his mouths momentary inability to keep up with his thoughts.
“Yes, of course I just-”
“Because if you are not,” Jack picked up where his mother had stopped, holding a very similar tone. “You will need to make that decision soon. We cannot have you stepping out of this carriage, my boy, if you are not prepared to deal with his Majesty.” The honorific of the King was said with a tinge of annoyance, and Tim couldn’t decide if it was due to his fathers displeasure with the current King, or his sons hesitation.
He understood his parents unwillingness to let him stand before the the Royal Family, he really did. Just him standing in from to them could lead to issues as soon as any of them laid eyes on him. He also understood that with his age, it was becoming increasingly more odd to not have Tim beside them as they traveled, leaving his parents cornered between a rock and a hard decision.
They had already made their decision, it was just up to Tim to uphold his weight. To do them proud by all they had taught him over the years.
It was only a second longer of hesitation before Tim fixed a determined look on his face, puffing his chest out with his own decision. For his parents