Chapter Text
Talia Al Ghul knew she was making a big mistake that night, yet it didn’t stop her. A week after she got to know she was pregnant. When Richard was born she tried to hate him; he was so delicate, small, and needy. But no matter what she thought, she loved him more than anything. She gave up ignoring him by the time he was 3. Her father had told Lady Shiva to train him as soon as he walked, so he had learnt a lot. By the age of 6, he was one of the best assassins they had.
Richard had something unique about him that no other in Nada Parbat had. He loved freely and was always happy and so soft. This side of him usually got him punishment until, he knew not to speak unless asked, show no mercy, and be hard, and stoic. She still remembered the day she saw this side of him.
In one particular training session, Richard and Lady Shiva were fighting brutally with katanas and even though Shiva knew that Richard was too small to dodge a strike she didn’t hold back. “Ah!” He exclaimed in pain. The pain was written all over his face. At this moment Talia whole heartedly hated Lady Shiva. “Wrong! You are too weak. You need to learn to show no pain. It shows you are weak.” Shiva had yelled and left not even bothered by the crying 4-and-a-half-year-old. This incident had ended with Talia hating Shiva; for how dare she scream at her son; only she and her father were allowed to discipline him. Even though Talia’s father had drilled the fact that love is a weakness she had rushed toward her child as soon as his mentor had left. She had gently taken the leg from the child's clutches “It's ok Richard,” she had told him with a softness in her voice that she thought she was incapable of. “Mother. Hurts” he sobbed, Talia was surprised that the child trusted her enough to show her this kind of vulnerability but then she realized how young he was; and of course, he trusted her she was his mother even though she had ignored him till now.“I know my beloved, I know.” Talia said, pulling the tiny 4-year-old into her embrace. After stitching him up she had picked up her Habibi when he spoke “Thank you Ma.”. This statement had made her heart fill with love as she blinked away the wetness in her eye. No one had called her with the amount of love her habibi had just now.
That day she had decided that she wouldn't ever let anyone or anything take her son away from her.
When Richard was 5 he was sent on a mission with her to Uzbekistan they had to kill 2 and injure one fatally but gave him time to warn his allies. Talia knew that Richard had killed when told to do so, but what she also knew was that he hated to kill (innocents, mostly, but as a whole too); but it was necessary for in the real world no one was going to be there to save him. So after the mission was over Talia, already dealing with the weight of taking a life, saw her son’s sad eyes but couldn't do anything. What surprised her was that her habibi came to her and said “Mother.”
“Yes, my love?”
“I am sorry we had to kill them, but I think that they might finally find rest and peace wherever they’ll go next. Isn’t that better than to live a life where the League of Assassins is hunting you? Than being lost? I hope they find a home.”
Talia wondered what she had done to have a child like him; so hopeful, so bright, and oh so wise.
“I too son. I too hope the same.” She said softly, all the weight she was carrying seemed to vanish in thin air as she looked at her son’s bright blue eyes. She would take lives or give her life to keep him the same. She knew if Ra’s ever saw her son be so soft and innocent, he would beat the child to the inch of his death like the many times he had done previously. But it was Richard’s hopefulness, brightness, and resilience that made him, himself, so Talia was not taking that away from him.
But the league crossed the final line 6 months after when they had sent Richard to a mission in which - unlike others - there were several targets and was deemed high risk. Ra’s had told her it was essential for him to be ready as soon as possible for being Ra’s host; He had told her this like they were talking about some mere thing, a vessel, not his grandson or Talia’s son. So Talia had sent her most trusted soldier, Mary, to take as many kills as possible for herself and spare her child. But yet Richard ended up slaying many that day.
It had destroyed him.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore.
The bright and confident kid she knew wasn’t there anymore.
His eyes were sad and he looked so lost.
But Talia wasn’t going to let anyone steal her son’s light away, so she tried. She tried to heal him. She tried to make him smile more. She started to treat him like a proper mother would to a son. She let him sleep cuddled into her when he had a nightmare. Told him time and again that it wasn’t his fault, that he is neither bad nor evil. She started to spend more time with him. She also learnt a lot of things in that period, like how Richard liked his food cooked enough to be crispy but not burnt, or that Richard, unlike her, had a strong affinity for gymnastics and the trapeze. But she also got to know bad things about
By the time he was 6 he was fairly healed. It was the time for her to make the hard decision.
“Richard! Habibi!” Talia whisper shouted trying to wake him up. “Mother? What happened Ma !?” He said getting up. “I am sorry Richard, my beloved but the time has come. You need to run from here Mary is waiting for you outside all you have to do is escape then you’ll be free.” She said hurriedly, “What!? No Ma! I am not going anywhere without you! You– You’re my mother I can’t leave you, you're my home” Hearing her Habibi say this to her made her throat fill up. “I’m so sorry Habibi but this is for your good. I give you my word that we’ll meet again, but for now, you have to go” Talia said as she readied him to go. When they reached the place they had to part she knelt on her knee, so she was eye to eye with Richard “Her take this,” Talia said handing him a simple black thread with a robin pendant on it – she had bought it for him when she was on a mission, it had reminded her of him, the colours, the brightness and it suited him – “I love you.” “Love you too, Ma.” He whispered back. Then she pushed him out and ran in to create a distraction. But all she could think about was that it was her first time telling her son that she loved him; it was her first time telling anyone she loved them and it could be her last.