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Maybe Bruce has made a mistake.
Sure, he left his home port town as soon as he turned 18, ship-hopping to eventually find himself with the League of Shadows but that's not where he thinks he went wrong. He's spent three, almost four years with this crew. As distant as they are, he trusts them.
They might steal from other ships, or nearby ports but that's not all that different then most at Gotham's port. The city port was home to so many pirate ships that bought off the local enforcement that it might as well have been a pirate port.
Yet, in all that time, he somehow never figured out they were assassins.
-
Technically, Bruce was hired as muscle. Kind of.
He knew as they took him aboard all those years ago, that they didn't need muscle. The League of Shadows certainly had enough, and if the name meant what it implied, that was just this ship. They—the crew and supreme captain, Ra's al Ghul—had promised to teach him. Teach him to fight as fluidly as the water they rode, as strong as the tidal-waves, and Bruce had wanted to be taught. Needed to know.
They knew his name before he told them, he tries not to think about that too much.
So on paper, Bruce is muscle. Simply helping move cargo or barrels on and off the ship at whim of the captain. In actuality, he spars with crew far into the night and builds more strength through the training they place upon him. He would never say no, there is much to be done that needs that strength. Gotham needs that strength.
Honestly, Bruce hadn't even thought anything was up until he barely overheard a crewmate saying something about an 'initiation'. At the time, he had brushed it off. Many things on this ship were sketchy, as is any pirate ship or crew. It was nothing new.
But something itched, the need to know.
He started investigating. Just slightly. Trying to eavesdrop on conversations or see if anyone would tell him anything. Nobody ever did. It was smooth, the way they redirected him or carefully avoided the answer. Bruce would've been fooled if he hadn't grown up surrounded by charismatic people. It told him there was something worth hiding, and it just made the itch grow.
Whenever Bruce would get slightly closer to what was happening—a whisper about a 'hit', his name hushed down within conversations in a way that unsettled him—he was pulled away. First, it was by duties that were suddenly needed to be done. When he figured out how to do all of the tasks prior to being asked, they got creative.
(Was this his mistake? Letting this go so far?)
Talia al Ghul was the first mate. She's the daughter of the supreme captain, and acting captain on any ship she steps aboard. Bruce is not dense. He can tell they only brought her to this ship because of him, of how close to whatever they were hiding he was getting. Most likely to keep an eye on him.
He stood with the rest of deck-crew, hands behind his back and posture upright, just as he was taught. Bruce watched from the corner of his eye as the woman walked across the flimsy board, bridging the two ships. She walked as if she was born from the sea, swaying with the waves and confident in her strides. He wondered how long she had been at sea, if she ever stood on land. He wondered how she could not falter once on such a rickety board and not flitch.
Bruce found he wondered about her often.
She had caught him later, stopping him with an almost weak grasp on his wrist. He knew better, she could not be weak in any sense of the word, it was to give him illusion. Illusion of control. Bruce knew, he did, but as much as the ship and the happenings on it were a mystery, so was she.
He had a horrible habit of chasing mystery.
The frustrations began, when he noticed how she would always pull him away when he was close to figuring something out. It took him longer than he would like to admit—Talia was good at distractions—to figure out what she was doing. The most he ended up hearing when it all came to blows, was his name in relation to an initiation and something about 'hit', as in harm? Maybe, but the sinking feeling in his stomach knew he would find out soon enough.
I was right, was the first thing he thought as he stared down his captain. Ra's hadn't made an appearance since Bruce was first hired. He didn't mind, something felt off about the man siting across from him. Though, he plastered on a charming smile for his boss anyways.
"Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure of your calling?" It was a familiar game to play, the dulled, enthralled boy that adored whoever crossed his path. In all honesty, it could be anything, perhaps even about the entanglement Bruce had somehow gotten himself into with the man's daughter.
His stomach plunging downwards as if a wrecked ship told him otherwise.
Ra's shook his hand, gesturing him to sit down across from him. An almost pleasant expression on his face if it had been anyone else. "Bruce," He already hated the way the man had known his name without telling him, but the way he said it now was like entering mucky lake water—It looked, felt and sounded wrong. "Sit, sit… It is nothing bad, I assure you. If anything this will do you good."
That wasn't a good sign, neither was the smile Ra's held. It outwardly seemed dovish, as if trying to calm Bruce's nerves that must've been showing on his face. Bruce knew better, something about this man seemed… Darker than what he presented. The attempt at soothing him only made the hairs on Bruce's neck prickle.
"I'm sure you've noticed that the League has… kept some things from you," He pauses, as if that was a surprise to Bruce and he needed a moment to process the betrayal, Ra's threaded his fingers together and leaned forward onto his desk. Was this an attempt at intimidating Bruce? "Mainly, our true job. Being a pirate organization is merely a front, you see."
…Now that is a surprise. Sure, the amount of resources that the League of Shadows has doesn't quite line up with the amount of raids Bruce has seen on average, but to be using a criminal entity to, what? Cover up a worse history?
"The League of Shadows, is actually an assassin web. Our reach is far and wide, all throughout the seven seas."
What.
Bruce's utter bafflement must've been clear on his face, since his captain laughs. It is not kind, nor joyful, more sadistic. The smile he gives Bruce is sharp, "I understand this must be hard to accept, you've been with us for many years now, Bruce." That's not quite the issue Bruce is having currently though…
"Why are you telling me this." Bruce's tone is devoid of the false cheer he had given the man earlier, all stone and statement. He can't help but tense up, this seems like a trap to tell a low level member the truth. Was he planning on killing him? Bruce didn't know if he could fight so many people at once, let alone apparently highly trained assassins.
Ra's laughs again, he seems almost… Amused? Delighted, might be a better word for it as the man had wanted this. It struck Bruce, Ra's had wanted him to be scared, or rather daunted by the idea of how many people he had under his thumb. Ra's knew he had the upper ground compared to Bruce, they were in the middle of the ocean with no one but the captain's own men. The odds were stacked against him.
Clearly, he wanted Bruce to feel isolated and outnumbered, but still for what?
His eyes seemed to glint in the candle light, the shadows casting a sinister atmosphere. "I wish to recruit you, of course. You've done so well til now, trying to uncover our secrets, Detective. You could be great," Ra's leans forward, resting his chin on his crossed fingers, the menacing smile not wavering, "I could make you great."
Bruce has made a misstep. Obviously, he couldn't just flat-out refuse, he was on Ra's territory and would be killed at a seconds notice if he lets it get by that he isn't really in on this. So, here he is, following the captain as he explains how Bruce's 'initiation' is going to go.
Really, for the last few minutes the man has just been going on about how well Bruce and him are going to work together. While Bruce's mind is running wild with how he's going to get out of this. It's not looking good for him, other than just going along with it for as long as possible.
He doesn't know if he's going to make it out of this. It makes him wish he had left a letter for Alfred.
"—Since humanity has this problem with killing another person and our recruits often hesitate for their first kill, we've come up with a solution," Finally, Ra's gets to the point, he seems down right thrilled at his plan going well. Bruce feels sick to his stomach as this man talks about people's lives so casually, it's unsettling and horrid. Bruce follows the captain silently, as he gets led up to the top deck. "Instead of our newest recruits' first kill being human we've decided for it to be mer. Because they aren't human it's easier—"
Bruce's ears cut off the rest of Ra's' rambling, his view zeroing in on a… Mer pup?
He feels himself jolt in place, before forcing his body to carry on moving. The mer baby—because that's what he is—is fighting against the net holding him, viciously writhing and trying to tear at anyone within reach. He's hurting himself doing so, the saw-toothed net ropes dig into his scales and rip them out as he flails within. The beautiful reds, greens and yellows are torn apart, dropping to the wooden deck dripping with blood.
His vision distorts almost, and all he can see is that night with scattered pearls soaked in blood. The pure rage Bruce feels nearly knocks him off his feet. He knows he has to play this just right, especially now that a child is involved.
Bruce comes back to his body as a dagger is pressed into his palm, Talia is looking into his eyes and all he can think is did you know? Did you know a child would be at stake? He doesn't let his anger show on his face, nor the betrayal. Perhaps the blankness will convince them he is despicable enough to commit this act.
He curls his hand around the handle of the blade. Bruce tears his gaze from Talia's, and looks back to the captured mer. His dark black hair is just about dry now, clearly having been kept out of the water for quite some time. Bruce can't remember how long mers can stay out of water, but it must be more than their offspring.
Ra's grins, taking a step back and nodding at his daughter to do the same. There is now a circle around Bruce and the trapped pup, confining Bruce to this fate. He knows there must be another way, or perhaps the only way for the mer pup to get home is to take the blades himself.
As he continues his path towards the mer, his mind is racing. Creating possibilities and writing them off whilst creating more. Any plan he comes up with is trashed within seconds, there's too little time for anything. Bruce isn't used to being as unprepared as he is now.
The closer Bruce gets to the mer pup, the more he struggles. The angry, guttural growls and hisses turn into whimpers. Apparently mers can understand human speech, does it depend on location for the languages they know? Do they have to learn them properly? Could they speak?—
Bruce blinks as now he's standing in front of the cowering child. The edge of the deck isn't too far from the net, he'd probably have to push the mer over the railing but it shouldn't be too hard. The colorful creature only looks about eight and most likely weighs the same.
Even as Bruce tries to separate his emotions from the scene, he feels his heartbreak at the sobbing sound the mer pup makes, because of him. He can't comfort the poor boy, not here within enemy lines, not while they're both in danger.
He breathes out, it's quiet but his entire lung capacity. He hopes Alfred knows how much he loves the man, even if he had left without words. He hopes that the mer pup will make it back to his pod, they surly must miss him dearly. He hopes he sees his parents after this. He hopes they're proud of what he tried to do for Gotham.
It's quick, when he slices through the ropes containing the young boy. He hears the start of a whimper when he first raises the dagger but it's drowned out by the sudden yelling once Bruce makes it through the first net line. Behind him, Bruce can catch the sounds of metal and sheathes gliding against each other. Once half of the cords are cut, Bruce lifts and pushes the mer pup out of the net, dumping him into the ocean water below.
As Bruce whips around, he hears the telltale splash of water and drops some tension from his shoulders.
He's armed only with the small dagger, it is not enough compared to the much larger swords pointing towards him. Ra's looks like he expected this outcome and is much more eager to either fight or kill Bruce, he can't quite tell. Talia will not meet his eyes, Bruce can't tell if it hurts or if that is just the lingering betrayal talking.
He will not go down without a fight, but he knows he won't win. The steadying breath can only do so much for the adrenaline coursing through his veins already. He goes to say something, maybe something profound or inspiring for a man facing death.
What happens instead is hands grab him from behind and drag him overboard.
Bruce barely has enough time to take a deep breath before he hits the water. The cold nearly shocks the air from his lungs and he's surprised when he doesn't loose it by sheer will. He can't see what is happening but can feel the water rushing by him in riveting waves, the hands that took him off the side of the ship clutch at his soaked shirt.
He doesn't know how long they swim, but it's long enough for even Bruce's lung span of air to run out and he starts feeling faint. It's then that he is abruptly tossed onto a sandy beach.
The shore greets him with air, and he doesn't take it for granted as he pants greedily for oxygen. Sand sticks to his hands, clothes and hair, but it almost feels like a hug with how close to death he was. Both under the water and onboard the League of Shadows ship. Bruce lays on his back for a moment, taking in the fact he is alive and breathing, before pushing himself up on his elbows.
On the waterline, is the mer pup. His wide blue eyes are staring at Bruce, whilst being on his stomach. The multicolored tail connected to him waves in the air, before slapping back down into the water again. The child tilts his head at Bruce, before his gaze is taken by Bruce's shoes, poking at them.
On instinct, Bruce jerks his foot away from the curious boy, before blinking in shock. The mer is much stronger than Bruce had guessed, to be able to drag Bruce through the water like he did. Statistics and numbers flash through his head as he tries to figure out how strong this kid really is, till he is drawn out of his mind by watered down red dispersing through the water around the child's tail.
Panic washes through Bruce and he's on his knees in an instance, "Are you okay?" He demands, hands hovering around the child's injured lower half. It takes him longer to remember the boy is a mer so of course he can't reply, before laughter starts up.
The mer pup giggles, a large grin on his face as he looks up at Bruce, before taking one of Bruce's hands in his and guiding it to where the bloodied water is the deepest red. Bruce flinches back unconsciously when he makes contact with a large gash, but the blue-eyed boy doesn't waver.
Bruce can hear himself gasp as he feels the gash knitting itself together underneath his fingertips. Knowing the boy is okay now, Bruce questions, "..Are you healing like this because of the water? You weren't when you were trapped in the net," He wonders aloud, gingerly taking his hand back from the wound, not wanting to hurt the mer even if he can heal at exceptional speeds.
Black hair bobs up and down in a nod, and Bruce blinks in surprise at the answer. So mers really do understand human speech, considering the child hasn't tried to speak to him, Bruce guesses they can't speak it though.
And the child is still here. He had rescued Bruce but not gone back to his pod.
"…My home is on a shoreline, directly connected to a water cave system." Bruce tentatively says. It's not, but he can make arrangements to make Wayne manor livable again, Alfred would certainly not mind since he'd been trying to get Bruce to live within his childhood home once again.
The mer pup perks up at the mention, intently watching Bruce next to him.
He brushes sand off himself, or at least off his hands, "I'll be going there now that I'm off that ship. You could come with?" The end sounds more like a question than Bruce had meant it to, but when the mer pup nods so hard Bruce is worried he'll hurt himself, he supposes it's fine.
He'll have to contact Alfred soon, he'll be happy to hear there's a new member of the family.