Chapter Text
Damian grumbled as he shot out the line to catch up with Grayson as they swung past the docks. A sharp whistle reached his ears and he tensed, instantly on alert.
Not even seconds later, a knife embeds itself into the wall next to where he had just landed. He blinked, slightly shocked before the insignia on the blade glimmered in the waning light.
“Nightwing!! We are under attack!”
Grayson nodded and quickly readied himself. Several assassins attacked from the shadows and they were separated. Unable to communicate without giving away their plan. The roof they were on was getting crowded with his mother’s agents, and they fought with all of their might.
He was just about to dispatch one of the men when he heard Grayson cry out in pain and turned just in time to see him slump to the ground twitching, an electro shock collar around his neck.
He quickly set off his distress signal and turned. He could see the gleam of Todd’s hood about a mile away and so he had some hope.
Unfortunately, he let his guard down, and was quickly taken out in much a similar way as his brother.
`
Jason rushed to his brother's location. Both Nightwing and Robin had let off a distress signal, shortly before both of their comms had gone offline, as had all of their trackers. He arrived at the roof and found the little brat’s katana, along with the golden boy’s escrima.
He heard rustling in the alley below him and slinked over to check it out. He managed to get a glimpse of his two brothers slumped over in the back of the black van before the doors slammed shut and the van took off.
He growled and jumped over the edge of the building, reaching for his comms at the same time.
“Nightwing and Robin have been kidnapped. I need help over here, in pursuit of the vehicle.”
“Affirmative. Hood, tail them, Red Robin is closing in on your position.”
He nodded and yanked a tracker from his belt. With a soft grunt he lobbed it at the moving van, not even a second later the tracker hit him in the face of his helmet and he blinked shocked.
He readied for his final swing, one that would land him on the roof of the van, but as he moved to execute the plan, the van shimmered, and disappeared before his eyes.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”
`
Damian groaned as he slowly came too, his entire body protesting any movement. His eyes shot open with a gasp and he quickly sat up. Grayson was already up and coherent next to him, a cloak covering his suit.
Before he could inspect the rest of the room a sharp pain erupted from his cheek. He blinked, the sound of the slap echoing through the room. Grayson growled and yanked at the manacles keeping him in place.
“Hello son, it’s been a while.”
He glared. “What do you want, Mother?”
Talia smirked and he felt dread creep up his spine.
“It’s time for you to fulfill one of your greater duties.”
He shook his head quickly.
“I’m afraid that I will have to decline. I do not wish to hurt people anymore.”
His mother smirks. “You don’t have much of a choice.”
She motioned to the guards by the door and they nodded. The door swings open and a girl is dragged into the room, still trying to wrestle herself free from the guards tight grip.
She was dressed in a suit not unlike Grayson’s, without the emblem of course. A black mask much like Cassandra's orphan costume covered the lower half of her face, her short blue hair barely brushing over the tips of her ears.
She grunted and looked up, and their eyes locked. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, but they filled with annoyance the longer he stared.
Grayson swung a hand out, glancing his mother in the side. He must have been picking the lock when they brought the girl in.
His mother sighed before she shoved Grayson into the wall and set a dagger against his throat. She leaned close to his ear and told him something, as Grayson paled and stiffened.
“ابني، أحيي خاطبتك”
He felt ice creeping up his spine at his mother’s words.
He immediately started to struggle against the chains, desperately trying to get out and away from this insanity. From the soft grunts, he assumed the girl was doing the same.
His mother laughed and stepped away from Grayson. She smiled down at him before she turned and glided from the room, the girl being dragged after her.
‘
Shortly after his mother left, five attendants entered. They quickly fitted Grayson with another shock collar from which they attached a large chain, as if he were a dog on a leash. They then chained his hands behind his back with special cuffs designed by his father.
The cuffs were almost like normal cuffs. Except for the fact that they were similar to metal gloves. Each finger was spread out and locked into place so that they could not be moved.
(So the cuffs are like gloves. Except they are metal and make it so each individual finger is locked in place and can’t do anything. Got the idea from a fic I don’t remember, so credit to them)
After they were satisfied with Grayson they turned to him.
Without a word they yanked him up and cut his uniform off of him. To the side he could hear Grayson make a noise of protest.
After they had finished divesting him of his garments they quickly dressed him in the familiar undergarments he wore as the Heir of the Demon’s Head.
They handed him the familiar armor and red cape silently. He took it without a word and quickly dressed.
He stood there awkwardly in the middle of the room until one of them sighed and gestured to their eyes. He frowned confused until another rolled their eyes and ripped Grayson’s domino mask from his face and then gestured to him.
He silently removed his mask and they smiled.
They led Grayson from the room first and one escorted him from the room by his arm.
They walked down a short corridor and stopped in front of a set of double doors. The attendant escorting him leaned over and whispered quietly,
“You will thank me later Damian.”
He startled and suddenly the figure was gone, and the guards standing on either side of the door gestured for him to enter impatiently.
With a heavy heart he trudges through the doors and into the room. He makes his way to the altar set in the center of the room, kneeling before it.
He could hear Grayson struggling from somewhere behind him, but all his attention was focused on the still struggling girl, now dressed in an elegant white gown, as she was dragged towards him.
His mother whispered something to her as she was dragged past and the girl stiffened, nodded, and stopped her struggle. She went to her knees without a fight.
*the arabic means: Son, say hello to your betrothed, it should, I used google translate so take it with a pinch of salt as I do not speak arabic, english and some latin yes, but not arabic