Work Text:
Bruce and his fellow rulers stared down at the scroll that had just been delivered to them. They had been relaxing, the yearly meeting between the various kings and delegates from distant lands almost a mere formality now, seven years since the sudden retreat of King Pariah Dark's forces back across the border. They still don't know the why of it, simply that after over a decade of pillaging and bloody battles suddenly the enemy had retreated.
The completely different name listed with the title of High King may explain it.
Bruce and the rest of the kings of Justria, along with representatives from various allies, had gathered in the Watchtower, a fort built next to the border between the two regions and the only known pass through the treacherous mountain range that separated them, as had become tradition. A single rider on horseback had been spotted approaching from the enemy's side, but all she did was hand over a box to the messenger from their side that dared approach before turning and heading back the way she came.
And now here they were, staring at the scroll that had been on the very top, laying neatly on a bed of crisp, cream colored envelopes, each with a name and a title written in neat, precise handwriting and sealed with wax stamped in an unfamiliar royal crest. Bruce had carefully opened his to find a simpler, less decorated copy of the scroll along with writing in a script Bruce didn't recognize under. It also had additional information such as when and where the wedding was to take place.
"Who's this King Phantom guy?" King Barry of Centralia asked. "I thought the king was Pariah Dark."
"He was, during the war," Sir John Stewart of the Order of the Green Dawn said ominously.
"This may explain why they suddenly just stopped," Delegate Shayera of Thanagar said coldly. "Internal politics, someone got sick of the old tyrant and overthrew him."
"Why invite us?" King Clark of Metropolis asked, forehead wrinkled as he stared down at his own invitation.
"An offer of friendship, or at least peaceful coexistence," Princess Diana of Themyscira said decisively.
"If truly this new king overthrew Pariah Dark out of displeasure for the war, then this is indeed the first attempt at holding a hand out in friendship." Delegate J'onn of Martia looked around the room as if reading their faces.
"I find it unsettling they knew exactly who was here to receive these invitations," Bruce said darkly. While Atlantis was a part of the League of Justria it was so distant King Arthur couldn't always make time to attend, King Oliver of Star had refrained from attending due to Queen Dinah's impending labor, and other, smaller kingdoms such as Blüdhaven or Dakota Kingdom had only sent delegates to these meetings before, if they sent anyone at all. And yet they were often here for the alliance review, so where were their invitations?
Everyone around the table looked back down at their invitations in a grim new light.
Barry leaned back, "Bruce is right, this suddenly feels like a trap."
"Nevertheless, to refuse would be a grave insult," Diana said decisively. "I shall take this home and discuss with my mother about sending a delegation and the proper gifts such a momentous occasion calls for. If this truly is an attempt at opening peaceful relations we cannot afford to offend."
"Right, as always Diana," Clark said with a chuckle. "I think we'd do well to contact the other members of the League and find out if they also received invitations as well."
Bruce nodded along.
Tim took a deep breath as he and his delegation approached High King Phantom's castle. They had stopped at the Watchtower, where Bart and Cassie were already waiting, Conner and the Metropolis delegation had arrived the next day and together they had set out, now the whole group were finally arriving at their destination. Every kingdom in the Justria League had indeed received the invitations, all had agreed that sending their actual rulers was not happening, but a representative from each royal family must go. Conner, Bart, and Cassie had been chosen by their respective families, Tim had volunteered.
It made sense. Dick couldn't go, both because he had never been legally adopted by Bruce and thus wasn't legally a member of the Wayne royal family, and because he had Blüdhaven to rule. Damian was too young. Duke may be a ward, like Dick, but he was not adopted, like Dick. Cass had also volunteered, but she was technically not in line for the throne, not immediately. Tim was fairly certain if the worst happened and all the men of the Wayne family were to die the nobles would find some way to make someone else king before putting a woman on the throne.
More fools they.
But Tim wasn't a Wayne by birth. He was in line for the throne before being adopted, yes, but he was way down on the list. The nobles had been happy when Bruce adopted him, they thought he was using the tragedy of the Drakes' death as a way to secure himself a proper heir. Then Damian had come along, the blood son born out of a foreign marriage no one had known about. Now there was question on who would inherit. Should something happen to Tim in the Realms… well that would just secure Damian as the true heir. It made sense.
Considering the similar contention Conner's birth caused the royal family of Metropolis Tim could only guess there was similar reasoning behind him being chosen. After all, do you choose the son born of a legal marriage birthed by the current queen, though he's technically second born, or do you choose the son born to both the current king and the previous king, though he was born of the dark and twisted magics of their enemies, out of wedlock, and certainly without the current king's consent or knowledge?
Cassie and Bart were lucky, they got chosen simply because they were closely enough related to be appropriate choices.
"Well, here we are," Bart said a bit nervously as they approached the castle, their retinue following behind them.
"Here we are," Cassie agreed.
Tim stared up at the castle with its tall towers and taller turrets. The whole thing was imposing, built out of dark, reddish stone.
"It was actually built by Pariah," one of the Realms soldiers that had joined their delegation after crossing over the mountain pass said casually. "I hear King Phantom hates it, but refuses to renovate or build new."
"Well, I imagine with a new… spouse perhaps it may happen yet," Tim said with a twist of his lips. He had assumed the titles of King and Sir were a misunderstanding, someone unfamiliar with Justrian culture using the male titles by default rather than Queen Regnant or Dame. They had found out that both parties were in fact male, something considered unthinkable for a position that required an heir and a clear line of inheritance in Justria. Then Tim remembered how Conner was born and realized for the people of the Realms that may not matter.
He was perhaps a bit jealous.
He'd asked their guides about how the titles would work, but had been given their titles in the Realms' native language, which told him nothing. It was like the Great Retreat all over again, none of the Realms soldiers who spoke Justrian had bothered to tell them what was going on, just celebrated in their native tongue as they all returned home.
"I think Sir Revenant rather admires the castle," their guide replied airily. "Poor King Phantom may have missed his opportunity to remodel."
Another soldier said something in Ghost Speak, then made kissy noises and batted his eye lashes dramatically. It was clear he was saying the king was smitten with his future husband.
Bart gasped in delight, "Are they a love match?!"
"A love match? Oh, oh that. Yes. A love match." He turned to the other soldiers and said something that had them all laughing.
Tim frowned at the rudeness, but they were entering the courtyard and the immediate bustle of activity took Tim's attention. He and his friends all dismounted and headed in, eager to be shown to their rooms and wash off the road.
A group of well dressed people waited inside. In the center stood a young man close to their age, white hair braided out of his face, bright green eyes peering at them from unnaturally pale skin, dressed in deep black trimmed in blinding white. Most notably, floating above his head was a flaming black crown. He smiled, showing off sharp looking fangs, and held his hands wide. "Welcome!"
Tim stood for a moment, stunned. This couldn't be High King Phantom himself, could it? Surely not! Surely this must be a lesser king sent to greet them on Phantom's behalf. Tim decided not to risk it and bowed deeply, "Thank you."
The stranger flapped his hands, "Oh no need for all that. We can do the formalities later, right now you must be tired from your journey. I won't keep you, just wanted to welcome you to the Infinite Realms." The people lined up on either side of the stranger, also all around their own age, tittered. The stranger turned and glared at them, then turned his attention back to their group. "Your rooms have all been prepared, Sir Hal Jordan and Miss M'gann have already arrived. There'll be a feast tonight." The stranger lowered his voice like he was telling them a secret, "There's been feasts every night!" More tittering from the rest of the welcoming committee. "Anyway, I won't keep you, we'll do the proper formalities before the feast. Rest well!" With that, the stranger left, followed by his retinue.
"Was that really King Phantom?" Cassie asked in shock.
"Yes," a blond woman with bright red eyes and shimmering green scales for skin approached. "That was indeed King Phantom."
"By the gods," Tim murmured. His friends elbowed him.
"I'll show you to your rooms, this way."
Tim stood gathered in a cluster with the other Justrians, lost in a crowd of Realmsmen in every shape and size imaginable and a few even Tim could never dream of. Everyone was gathered in the throne room, lined up to leave a clear walkway for the wedding procession to walk down. It was only two days after Tim's group's arrival and the wedding was already happening. Two days! The date on the invitation had been the date of the actual event, not the start of events leading up to the ceremony. It was utter insanity. Apparently in the Realms it was completely normal.
Tim was just thankful they had arrived on time for the ceremony, rather than in the middle of it.
He was also rather curious to see Sir Revenant for the first time, the "bride" to be had been notably absent from the few events there had been in the last two days. He'd been told the king had decided to include the Justrian tradition of separating the prospective newly weds leading up to the ceremony. Considering the easy way King Phantom spoke Justrian with a faint country drawl, completely absent of the lilting accent most Realmsmen spoke with, Tim had a suspicion on the why.
Perhaps there was more hope for friendly relations than they previously believed.
King Phantom and his retinue, most of the same one that had greeted Tim and his friends, stood at the foot of the dais the thrones sat upon, Phantom just before his throne and his retinue lined up just to the side. Floating practically between the thrones was an old man in a royal purple cloak who seemed to be growing slowly younger. And now presumably Sir Revenant's retinue was walking up the aisle.
A woman wearing Amazonian armor walked confidently up the aisle and stood to the side of the queen's throne. Tim and his friends exchanged glances. "I don't recognize her," Cassie whispered.
A man with pale skin and dark hair followed next. His skin was so pale and sickly it appeared gray, but he looked well muscled and walked confidently, defying any illness. He also wore the crest of the House of El but reversed upon his chest. Again Tim and his friends exchanged glances, Conner shrugged and shook his head.
"Is that Roy Harper?" Sir Hal asked in a harsh whisper.
Indeed, King Oliver's ward was just passing them to go stand off to the side from the queen's throne. Roy Harper stepped from between M'gann and Bart to stare at himself in utter disbelief. "What the fuck?"
The Roy Harper in the wedding party looked them over and sneered when his eyes landed on the Roy Harper standing in the crowd.
"What the fuck indeed," Sir Hal agreed with Roy.
They were so distracted by the second Roy they almost missed the "bride" passing them. Tim looked over in time to see a tall, bulky man pass them by, somehow walking silently despite wearing full plate armor that gleamed black under the faerie lights lighting the hall.
Tim felt his breath stop.
"Jason?" The hair was a glowing, ethereal white, his eyes were a luminous green, but the face… one Tim had only seen in paintings and drawings or occasionally at a distance the few times he'd been dragged along to court by his parents when he'd been younger. "It can't be." But it must.
"Who's Jason?" Bart asked.
"Bruce's son, he died before I was adopted." The body had been authenticated, but lost before he could be returned home and properly buried. What was he doing here? Alive and well in the Realms? Getting married?!?!
"That is him," their Roy agreed. "But how? He's dead!"
A few of the Realmsmen around them shushed them. Up front King Phantom was smiling brightly as Jason carefully removed his gloves and handed them off to other Roy, then took Phantom's hands in his own.
Tim's head was spinning, too caught off guard to pay much attention to the ceremony. Simply that it was very similar to Justrian traditions, with oaths and a crowning at one point, then Jason and his new husband walked out hand in hand, followed by their retinues. Was the ceremony unusually short or was Tim too caught up in questions he had no way of answering.
Tim blindly followed his friends as the crowd spilled out into the courtyard to celebrate. There was already drink flowing, taps set up on barrels and the sound of bottles popping, glasses and tankards already being passed around. Music and laughter filled the air, Realmsmen already dancing. In the center of the courtyard a pole had been set up with ribbons hanging from it. Tim found himself wondering at its purpose, a far safer subject than Bruce's seemingly prodigal son.
"Cousin!" The man from Jason's retinue, the one wearing the crest of the House of El, slapped Conner on the back before any of them could react to his jovial greeting. "Me am happy see you!"
Conner reeled under the friendly back slap, "Uh… what? Cousin?"
Tim looked the man up and down, he'd changed into more casual clothes, no longer wearing the family crest from earlier.
"Yes! You am cousin. Been a long time since me see family, am good finally meet new cousin!"
"Like cousin Kara?" Conner asked.
"Oh, cousin Kara here too? Me am want see her." The man looked around the crowd as if expecting Kara to just pop out.
"No, no she didn't come with us. Um…" Conner looked to his friends. Tim held his hand out and mimed shaking hands. "Ah, right. I'm Conner, it's nice to meet you." Conner held his hand out to the man.
"Me am Bizarro, am nice meet cousin Conner."
The read haired woman in Amazonian armor from Jason's retinue approached, holding out a tankard for Bizarro.
"Red Her look! Am cousin Conner!"
"Yes, we're all happy you get to meet a family member. I'm sure he'll stay a bit longer so you can get to know each other, right?"
Conner nodded, "Of course, there's so few of us, we should all get to know each other."
"Are you an Amazon?" Cassie cut in, moving closer to Red Her.
She looked Cassie up and down, "No."
"But-"
"I'm not from Themyscira, never even been there."
"But your armor," Cassie insisted.
"Is my armor, it doesn't make me your sister."
"I never-"
"Well this wasn't fun, I'm going to go party with people who actually know how to party." With that she left, slipping into the raucous crowd.
"Red Her so funny! Come, meet Red Him and King Man." Bizarro jovially hustled Conner towards a long table, of course the rest of their group followed. At the center of the table sat King Phantom and Jason, who was leaning over to speak into the ear of the other Roy. All of them had changed into more comfortable clothing, gone was the armor and in its place were tunics dripping in embroidery, on the other Roy's head was a fur cap, the tail of the animal hanging at a jaunty angle. "Red Him, King Man! Am cousin Conner!"
The three looked up, King Phantom and Jason both looked to Conner and Bizarro, while the Other Roy looked to their Roy. "What the fuck?"
"I should be the one asking that!"
"Well now I know where my missing arm went," Other Roy said snidely, holding up a hand that was made of red, translucent, glowing flesh.
"Like hell I'm believing a word you say."
"Let's all just stop before this turns into an international incident," Hal cut in.
Their Roy grit his teeth, "You and I will be having words later."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Jason?" Tim asked, unable to hold it in anymore as he finally saw the new queen up close.
The three sitting at the table all stiffened. "How do you know that name?!"
"Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, first prince of Gotham." Tim hesitated a moment, then added, "My older brother."
Jason looked completely confused, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Wouldn't the first prince be Dick?" Other Roy asked.
"He was never adopted," Tim gently corrected. "He has since become the Prince of Blüdhaven."
"Well either way I think you mistook me for someone else," Jason said, looking Tim up and down.
Sir Hal stepped forward, "No, no he hasn't. Unless you're another copy," he motioned towards their Roy, "you're Bruce's son. I recognize your face, though the hair and eyes are a bit off. Considering the company you keep…" Hal pointedly looked at King Phantom, who also had glowing green eyes and silvery white hair.
"You do have amnesia," King Phantom said gently.
Jason's brow furrowed, "I don't have amnesia, I died. My past life doesn't matter anymore, whoever that person was is dead now."
Tim felt his insides twist, hearing Jason talk about his own death in such an easy manner. "You did die, and it nearly killed Bruce. But you're here now, you're alive."
"No, I'm not." Jason turned to Phantom, "Hey, I wanna dance."
Phantom glanced nervously between Jason and Tim for a moment, then stood and offered his hand to Jason. "As my queen commands."
Jason laughed as he stood and took Phantom's hand before leading him into the crowd.
Several hands patted Tim's shoulders consolingly.
Tim shook them off, "I'm not feeling well and I'd hate to put a damper on festivities, if you'll excuse me." Tim bowed to what remained of the wedding party, then turned and left for his rooms. He had a letter to write.