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Summary
"No, I am perfectly fine." He sits up, glaring at the butler without much effort. "Don't underestimate me, I can handle whatever it is you give me, I am not weak."
It's as if Pennyworth expected him to say that, or gave in without a fight. "Very well, child. It wouldn't be right of me to deprive you of your robin training."
A small spark of pride lights up in him, making the corners of his lips curve up just a bit. Anybody else would have made him stay in bed - maybe strap him down with restraints if they had too. At least Alfred is aware of his true strength.
"Your brother's have all gone trough the same training with me at some point in their lives. They say it's by far much more enjoyable than other grueling exercises. Maybe you'll feel the same." The butler leads him out of the room, one hand lingering on his shoulder.
"What training is it?"
"You'll see, my boy"
Or: Damian gets coerced into doing things for Alfred because he believes its what’ll make him stronger, even though he hates it.