Chapter Text
Tim struggled in vain against the hands holding him down.
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
How could he have let this happen? It was supposed to be a simple patrol. Not exactly safe, but then nothing was these days. It should have just been routine, there’d been rumours of unusual movement in the woods near the border, so Tim took some men to go investigate, but the worst he’d been expecting to find was a single scouting party. A few soldiers sent to gather information on the enemy. Concerning, since it could lead to a full-fledged attack, but still, only a single squad. Him and his men could handle that much.
That wasn’t what they got.
It had been an ambush, Tim couldn’t say for sure how many men had been waiting for them, but it was enough that Tim had no chance to even try to retreat before his sword was ripped away from him and he was shoved to the ground.
He hoped some of his men had got away, had been able to raise the alarm, send word of the invasion, because surely that’s what this had to be, but he doubted it. It had been so fast, the sounds of fighting had died so suddenly.
The Infinite Lands were not known for their mercy.
Tim was hauled up from where they had been pressing his face into the dirt, and a gag was tied over his mouth, muffling the threats he tried to snarl at his attackers, the warnings he tried to shout for his people. A pair of hands hauled him into the forest with a vice like grip, not even bothering to make him walk. The men were tall enough that Tim’s feet only barely dragged along the ground. He looked up at the figure holding him and couldn’t supress the flinch.
A wraith.
Shit.
He could feel the boniness, the lack of warmth from the skeletal hand wrapped around his bicep. He swallowed, trying not to actively shrink away.
He’d never been this close to a wraith before, but he’d seen them, he knew people who’d fought them. They had been Pariah Dark’s favoured infantry for longer than Tim had been alive, and there were plenty of old and new soldiers who would show off their scars, warning off the undead minions that would just keep going even with a whole quiver of arrows sticking out of them. They were supernaturally strong, and nothing could put them down without magic short of completely severing the head.
And Tim had no sword.
He was so screwed.
As he tried desperately to come up with some kind of plan to get out of this situation, the wraiths broke through the tree line into a clearing, crowded with what Tim could tell at a glance were enemy soldiers. Some kind of camp. How did they get so close to the border? What did they want?
Before Tim could get a good look around, the wraiths shoved him to his knees in the dirt, forcing him to bow his head. Tim snarled and tried to twist out of their grip, but it was no use. They were too strong, and the gag muffled what little sound he could make.
A pair of large, black boots appeared in front of him, and a harsh voice spoke into the eerie silence of the clearing.
“You were successful?”
One of the wraiths yanked Tim’s head up by the hair, baring his face to the man. Any glare he’d been ready to level at the figure in front of him withered and died, and he could feel the blood rush from his face as he paled so fast that he might have been in danger of passing out. Bone deep terror settled into his chest, and his hands shook at his sides.
No. No way. This couldn’t be happening. Please.
Pariah Dark, dread High Chief of the Infinite Lands, immortal wager of the hundred-year war against the lands of Justria, looked down at him as Tim knelt in the dirt a stone’s throw from the city where his people, his family, were going about their day completely unaware of the threat.
A slow smirk crossed the warmonger’s face. Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away, his whole-body trembling.
“Ah yes. You will do nicely.”
Fuck.
---
Tim was dragged along by the same two wraiths as Pariah’s party packed up camp and marched out of the clearing towards the Gotham border.
He was trying not to panic, looking desperately for a way out of this, or even just to figure out what exactly ‘this’ was.
He wasn’t having much luck. With any of it.
There were countless reasons why an enemy king would capture him. He was a Prince of Gotham after all, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that Pariah hadn’t recognised him as such.
None of those reasons ended well for Tim, but this was already so far from the Infinite Lands’ normally strategy that he had no idea what might await them.
Pariah wasn’t one for subtlety. He might send occasional scouts, but when he attacked, you were guaranteed to know it. Tim would have expected him to march in with an army. He’d done so before, and it was only thanks to the combined might of their allies that they had been able to withstand the battles in Tim’s memory. He knew there were plenty from before he was born that they had not withstood, territory and countless lives they had lost.
Tim would have expected Pariah, upon finding a Prince out past the border, to lop off his head and send it to Bruce as a grisly warning. Kill everyone he came across and leave no survivors. That had certainly been his strategy before.
But instead, an ambush. Tim captured but not killed, barely even harmed. Pariah asking the wraiths if they ‘were successful’.
Even if Tim couldn’t be sure what Pariah intended to do with him, it was all painting a picture that Tim did not like the shape of. The enemy changing their strategy like this was never a good thing.
Eventually, they emerged from the woods and into sight of the border.
The second the first soldier stepped out of the trees, shouts and alarm bells rang out as the guards recognised the uniform. It got louder as the rest of the party stepped into view.
Pariah ignored the commotion and strode forward, stopping at the midpoint between the trees and the wall, completely unconcerned with the many arrows trained directly on him.
The rest of the party stayed a few meters back, except for the Wraiths that continued to drag Tim behind Pariah.
When the High Chief stopped, the wraiths threw Tim onto the ground before him and moved to take up station behind each of the warlord’s shoulders.
Before Tim could get his bearings, a massive hand gripped his hair and pulled him up to his knees, forcing his gaze towards the horrified guards manning the wall.
He froze as he felt the cold brush of steel settle on his exposed throat.
Pariah’s voice boomed out from behind him.
“Summon your king! Tell him he has one hour to show himself before I cut the throat of his precious son and leave him to bleed out in the dirt!”
Tim tried to hold himself still, tried to control the shudders running through him. He stared up at the guards with wide, terrified eyes. The ones still aiming their bows at Pariah looked back at him with the same.
Pariah leant down, lowering his voice.
“Time to see how much they care for you, young prince.”
Tim gulped, feeling the blade press closer with the motion, and would have curled in on himself if he could.
Bruce would be here, he knew he would. There was no way he would leave any of his children to die like this, not in a million years, no matter what was on the line.
Bruce would come, and Pariah would have the king right where he wanted him. He could kill Bruce the second he showed his face, could sweep through the city ransacking every home, killing everyone he came across. Gotham could fall tonight, unless a father could forsake his son.
He knew Bruce would come, but for the good of the kingdom, he almost hoped he wouldn’t.
Chapter 2
Notes:
This is one of two scenes that I thought of first and built the rest of the plot around. The other one is also written already but it will be a looong while before you see it, there is a hell of a lot I need to write in between.
Anyway, I'm really happy with how this turned out so I hope you're excited because I sure am!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time the gates started to ponderously creak open, Tim’s legs were going numb.
He was still knelt on the ground, a sword still pressed to his neck, but the High Chief had handed the duty off to one of the wraiths and was now standing a step in-front of and to the left of Tim.
The arrogance of not even trying to use his hostage as a shield from the many arrows that were still aimed directly at him was staggering, but did not make Tim feel any better. The guards would not shoot without orders, and no order would be given when any of his men could finish Tim off even if Pariah was taken out. Besides, Tim had the sick feeling that the High Chief had good reason for his arrogance.
Pariah was standing with the tip of his sword on the ground, his hands crossed over the pommel. Whatever he was planning, he was not at all pretending to be unarmed, even if he wasn’t directly using Tim as a shield.
Tim was still plainly visible to the wall and easily in reach of Pariah should he decide he wanted to hurt Tim personally, but at least no one was gripping his hair anymore. He was free to watch directly as Bruce took a step out of the gates, his face thunderous and, to those who knew him well enough to read him, absolutely terrified.
Tim was still glad to see him. Even if dread pooled in his gut at what could happen next.
Behind Bruce stepped a few guards, as well as Jason and Cass, arguably the best fighters right now among their siblings. Glancing up at the wall, Tim could see movement where most of his other siblings had gathered and were trying to stay out of sight while staring at him in horror.
No doubt Bruce forbade them from coming with him, Tim knew his family well enough to know that there was no way Bruce would be allowed to come alone, that they had probably all wanted to be the one to take his place, not that that was possible.
“King Bruce Wayne. How kind of you to join us.” Tim flinched at the sound of Pariah’s mocking voice.
Bruce gritted his teeth and took a single step forward to be at the front of his group. He did not bow.
“High Chief Pariah Dark. What brings you to these lands?”
Tim would laugh at the faux polite greetings, if he couldn’t also feel the choking tension in the air, thick enough to cut with the knife that was pressing into his neck.
“I have come to propose a treaty.”
Tim can feel the shock ripple out at those words, seeing several glances thrown at his position behind Pariah. This is a hell of a way to negotiate.
Of course, the ‘treaty’ was almost certainly just a flowery way to demand their surrender. But still, he had not expected this tactic from Pariah.
“What terms did you have in mind for this… treaty?” The suspicion was audible in Bruce’s voice. Tim didn’t have a good view of Pariah’s face from his position, but he could hear smugness in his tone.
“A ceasefire. For five years you and your allies in the Justrian alliance will cease your attacks. I will not send my armies into your lands, and you will not cross my borders, or I will take it as a forfeit of this agreement and respond as such. You will remove all spies from within my borders and release all prisoners within your jails who hail from the Infinite Lands.”
Tim could see his own wariness reflected in his sibling’s faces. What was his game? A ceasefire? A mutual ceasefire? From the guy who had been sending undead armies to attack them and their allies for a literal century. Why? What had happened to make him completely change his strategy so suddenly?
Not that the treaty was fair. There was no promise that Pariah would remove his own spies, release his own prisoners, or that he would not cross their border, only that he wouldn’t cross it with an army.
As for releasing the prisoners… Tim didn’t know the exact state of affairs there, but he knew there were several key figures being held in their country. He didn’t think that would go over well, along with the suspicious nature of the rest of the agreement. Tim was missing something, he knew it, there had to be some catch he couldn’t see yet.
“My council will never agree to that.” Bruce’s voice was firm, not betraying a hint of the emotions Tim knew were boiling under his calm façade. Bruce had always been good at putting on a persona when called to act as king. Unfortunately, Pariah just scoffed.
“I highly doubt your council agreed to you meeting me today. What’s one more thing? For the good of your son.”
The wraith holding Tim dug the sword in a little deeper at some unseen command. Tim could not help the way his breath hitched audibly as a drop of blood ran down his neck.
Jason and Cass flinched, staring at him desperately, as he tried to keep his breathing even. Jason’s knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword. Cass’s fists were clenched, and she looked ready to leap at Tim at any second.
Bruce’s stone facade cracked for a single moment, fear flashing in his eyes before he set his jaw again and glared at Pariah. Tim could practically hear his teeth grinding.
“Very well. I will agree to your terms.”
“A wise decision, your majesty.” Pariah’s voice was mocking, and Tim could see his family seething, could feel his own anger boiling at his own helplessness. He didn’t think he’d ever hated someone as much as he hated Pariah right then.
“Now then,” the bastard continued, ignoring the anger that lay thick in the air around them. “To seal the agreement. I have no patience for the pedantry of modern contracts, in this as in most things, I have always found the old ways to be the best.”
He raised his sword in one hand and, ignoring the flinches from his audience, pointed it towards Tim, keeping his gaze locked on Bruce as if Tim wasn’t even worth his notice.
“A marriage to seal the treaty. Your son shall be wed to one of my generals and return with his husband to the reside in the Infinite Lands.”
Tim’s ears were ringing.
His body felt numb as he gaped, dumbfounded, down the length of the sword towards the high chief who hadn’t even deigned to look at him as he sentenced him to-
He could vaguely hear yelling. Threats and weapons being brandished, both from the group in front of Pariah and from up on the walls. But he couldn’t make out the details through the buzzing in his ears. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?
“Enough!” Pariah’s snarl cut through the noise both inside and outside of Tim’s head, and he flinched as the blade cut into his neck again.
In front of him, Pariah had levelled his sword at Bruce, the blade now alight with Pariah’s characteristic cursed green flames. Tim had seen the haunted look in the eyes of soldiers who had seen it firsthand, but only once or twice. Most didn’t survive it after all. Bruce’s hand was on his own sword and Jason already had his drawn, teeth bared at the warlord.
“Do not delude yourself that this is a negotiation. He shall be wed, the treaty will be sealed, and you will comply.” Pariah’s voice dropped to a growl. “Or should I hold a blade to the rest of your children as well?”
Tim’s eyes flicked over to meet Bruce’s.
His father was staring back at him with his face twisted in a desperation he’d never seen before. His eyes were pleading, cutting into his heart, like Tim could somehow offer an alternative to the hopeless situation they’d found themselves in.
Slowly, very aware of the blade, Tim shook his head. He knew the rest of his family was watching, could see Jason flinch at the motion, but he couldn’t focus on that as he stared into his father’s eyes, watching his expression break and begging him to understand.
There was no saving Tim.
Even if they fought, even if they won, somehow, against such a magical powerhouse, Tim would be dead before the first blow fell. And he wouldn’t be the only one. Pariah had threatened the rest of the family, he would be going after Tim’s siblings if Bruce refused him. And they might be good fighters, but they weren’t this good. Some of them, maybe all of them if the men with Pariah were strong enough, would die.
And Tim couldn’t allow that.
If he was going to lose either way, he’d rather lose his freedom than his life and the lives of his siblings along with it. That was the logical choice, even if it felt like tearing his own heart out to see Bruce come to the same conclusion, to see the heartbreak and crushing guilt appear on his face before he took a deep breath and turned his almost smoothed expression back to Pariah.
“If he is harmed, the treaty is null and void.” The rage in Bruce’s voice would have sent a lesser man to their knees. As it was, Pariah simply lowered the sword, letting the flames extinguish.
“Of course. And I’m sure I don’t need to detail the consequences to him should you or your allies be the ones to break the treaty.”
Without another word he turned back towards his soldiers, striding away from the shaking King of Gotham and calling out orders.
“Prepare the ritual! We depart as soon as they are wed.”
Oh god. They were doing this now?
The anger that was roiling in Tim’s gut earlier had been replaced by a sick pit of terror, and his hands shook as he watched the soldiers scurry around bringing supplies from the waiting horses. Pariah had gripped the arm of a thin hooded figure and was hissing something in their ear, but Tim didn’t get a chance to see more before the wraith behind him hauled him up by the arm.
He staggered, his legs numb from so long on the ground, but didn’t even get the chance to find his footing before he was shoved harshly to his knees once again. He caught himself on his hands and got a look at the low wooden table, like one of those standing trays, that had been set up to his left.
Resting on its surface were a number of small bottles and clay pots he didn’t recognise the contents of, a paintbrush, a smooth stone bowl and- and a wickedly sharp curved knife.
Tim panicked, trying to push himself back to his feet, but he was shoved down again, and the wraiths sword dropped down to rest his shoulder. Not as immediate as when it was pressed to his throat, but the threat was clear.
His breath was starting to come to quickly, the reality- the immediacy- of his situation hitting him. This was too fast. This- this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t-
He looked desperately over to his right, where his family was still standing. He hadn’t- he hadn’t even said goodbye, would he even be given the chance? Would even that be taken from him? Pariah said they were leaving as soon as- that they were leaving straight after. Would this be the last time he saw them?
Jason was being held back by Cass, his face twisted in rage but streaked with tears. Cass looked no better, her other hand was clutching Bruce’s where it rested at his side, and the grief in her eyes would have brought him to his knees if he wasn’t already there. Bruce… Tim didn’t think he’d ever seen his dad look so broken before.
All three of them had their eyes fixed on Tim, as if terrified to let him out of their sight for even a second. Tim wished he had some way to reassure them, to promise he would be fine, but he could barely keep himself from outright hyperventilating, he didn’t think he could have put a brave face over his fear at this point if he’d tried.
His gaze flicked up to the walls, where his other siblings weren’t even trying to stay hidden anymore.
Dick had a hand clasped over his mouth, bracing himself on the parapet as if he was about to be sick. Stephanie was openly sobbing, her shoulders shaking where she stood curled in on herself next to Dick.
Damian and Duke were both out of the city, visiting with friends or studying. Barbara would be watching, but both she and Alfred would still be in the main castle. Would he not even be able to see them again? Just once, just let him see them one more time before-
Gods, he didn’t want to do this. Please, please to any gods that were listening, don’t make him go through with this, don’t make him leave-
His prayer was cut off as the figure Pariah had been talking to before approached him, casting one more look at where the High Chief was looming near the horses, and then sinking down to kneel across from him.
Tim couldn’t help the way his breath hitched, how he instinctively leaned back as if that small amount of distance would protect him.
The figure paused, their features inscrutable beneath the hood, and their movements were slow and deliberate as they settled and folded their hands in their lap.
Before Tim could process that, another man walked over, stopping next to the table. He reached down and picked up one of the pots, holding it in both hands and speaking in a strange language Tim had never heard before. The man’s eyes glowed brighter for a moment, and when he lowered the pot again its contents were a shimmering, vibrant green.
As he set it back down sharply next to its lid, he said something else in that strange guttural language. Now it was the figure’s turn to flinch, their shoulders hunching. They nodded without looking up and the man huffed, but took a few steps back, crossing his arms and glaring at both of them.
The figure sighed, their shoulders slumping, before they slowly, deliberately, reached for the pot and set it gently on the ground between Tim and themselves.
They picked up the paintbrush and held out their other hand towards Tim.
“I need your hand.” They said softly. Their voice was smooth, most likely male, and shockingly gentle compared to what Tim had expected. They-he probably- he didn’t demand it, just asked and waited for Tim to gather himself.
Tim took a deep breath, and offered his hand, trying to ignore how it was shaking.
The other man- the general? Pariah had said one of his generals, right? - took it gently, turning it palm down and holding it steady in his own hand. With his other hand he dipped the paintbrush in the shimmering pot and bent over Tim’s hand to begin painting something on the back of it.
“I’m sorry.” Tim flinched a little. The whisper was so quiet he knew no one but him would have been able to hear it. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he even had heard it, and he had no idea what to make of it if he had.
He focussed on keeping his breathing steady, trying not to jerk his hand too much and mess up the symbol that was taking form. He’d already made up his mind. He couldn’t fight this, he had to let it happen. And he didn’t want to know what would happen if he messed up this ritual, no matter how terrifying it was to have something so clearly magical, so different from what he knew a wedding to be, happen to him without explanation for what the ritual would do. He didn’t even know what this man looked like, for gods’ sakes.
The man finished drawing the sigil and released Tim’s hand, holding out the brush as if to offer it to him.
“Now you draw it on me.”
Tim baulked, despite the softness of the voice, and looked askance between the proffered paintbrush and the symbol on his own hand. It wasn’t one he recognised, but it wasn’t overly complicated, it should be pretty simple to replicate.
But still… somehow it hurt worse, the idea that he’d have to be an active participant in this turned his stomach. It hurt either way, but it would almost have been easier if the ritual was just something that was done to him, not something he had a hand in, no matter how unwilling.
With trembling hands, he reached out to take the brush. The man held out his hand and Tim dipped the brush into the pot, coating it with the strange glowing paint and trying not to think about the effects such an obviously magic substance might have on him.
He hesitated, turning his own hand so he could see the pattern clearly, and glanced at the man’s hand nervously.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect.” The hooded figure reassured, voice still soft enough not to carry. “Just copy it as best you can.”
Tim nodded shakily, took a deep breath, and touched the brush to skin. The sigil really wasn’t that difficult to draw, the hardest part was keeping his hands at least mostly steady, and what felt like far too soon he was finished.
He hesitated again and the man took the brush back again, setting it and the pot back on the tray. In their place he moved the stone bowl to sit between them and picked up the knife.
Tim hadn’t exactly relaxed at any point, but he stiffened further when he saw the knife again. The man hesitated for a moment, the knife wavering, before he looked over at the man still watching them and his grip tightened. Tim held himself very still as the unknown enemy soldier with a knife turned back towards him.
The man moved slowly as he held out his hand, repeating his actions from earlier.
“It’s just a shallow cut, I promise. On the same hand as the sigil.”
Tim hesitated, but really what was he going to do.
He offered his hand.
The man took it, again with unnerving gentleness compared to everything that was happening around them and held it over the bowl. In one smooth motion he sliced a thin line across Tim’s palm and held it there, letting the blood drip into the waiting bowl.
“Sorry,” he murmured when Tim winced at the sting. He set down the knife and reached over to one of the other open pots, scooping some kind of paste onto his fingers. Again, holding Tim’s hand so gently, he smeared the paste over the cut. It tingled slightly and felt similar to the ointment Alfred used to give them when they skinned their knees.
Tim’s eyes prickled with tears at the memory, and the man let his hand go, leaving him free to pull it to his chest protectively. He wasn’t worried about smearing the paint, he had already seen that it was undisturbed from the man’s touch.
Speaking of, the figure picked up the knife again, keeping his gaze focused on his hands as he began to mirror on himself what he had done to Tim. As he worked, he spoke softly, Tim once again straining to hear.
“We’re nearly finished. The next part can be… overwhelming when you’re not used to it. If there’s anything you need to… say, to anyone, now would be the time.”
Tim was confused for a second, before his eyes widened and he whipped his head back to look at his family. If the ritual was nearly over… this might be the last chance he had to see his family. Possibly ever. Oh gods. He wanted to throw up at the thought, to just collapse into a puddle of tears and forget this was all happening. As it was, he forced himself to meet the eyes of his weeping family and raise his trembling hands.
It was too far to speak to them, and Tim didn’t want to be yelling this across hostile territory. Luckily, they had all learned the sign language Cass preferred to use after she joined the family.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. There were so many things he needed to say, needed to tell them, to make sure they knew, but he couldn’t think of how to start, how anything he said right now could possibly be enough.
The man across from him wasn’t working quickly, but he’d already finished smearing the paste on his own cut and was starting to add things from the mysterious bottles into the bowl. Tim didn’t have much time.
Focus on the important things. Moving slowly to make sure he was understood through the distance and the shaking in his hands, Tim started signing.
“I love you. I’m sorry. I’ll be ok. It’s not your fault.” He made sure to point specifically at Bruce for the next one. “You made the right choice.”
Gods knew the guilt from this would eat Bruce alive, even if there was nothing he could have done. It would probably eat at all of them. Tim knew his words wouldn’t be enough to fix that, but he had to try. Had to let them know he didn’t blame them, even if they blamed themselves. The only one to blame was the megalomaniacal warmonger who had threatened his life.
His gaze was torn away from his family as the general set down the spoon he’d used to mix the contents of the bowl back on the table with a small click. Taking a deep breath, the man raised the bowl to his lips and tipped it back, drinking from the mixture inside.
Tim couldn’t help but recoil a little at the sight. That was his blood. Sure, other things had been added to it, but the sight of someone drinking a potion made with his blood was deeply disturbing to him.
The man lowered the bowl again and held it out to Tim. He could see that most of the liquid was gone, but there was still a few- he shuddered- a few mouthfuls left at the bottom.
“You need to drink the rest, then it will be done. Brace yourself.” The man’s voice was still soft but distinctly strained now. Whatever he was warning Tim about was already affecting him.
Tim took a deep breath and, with one last desperate glance at his family, took the bowl with trembling hands.
This was it. No going back. Not that there ever was.
He tried really hard not to think about exactly what he was doing as he raised the bowl. He wasn’t very successful.
The concoction tasted… strange. It tingled as it touched his lips, and he could feel the sensation follow the liquid into his mouth and even down his throat, which was very disturbing. There was an almost floral element to the flavour, but not enough to disguise the distinctive metallic tang, not enough to overpower the taste of the blood oh gods what was he doing.
As he swallowed the last drop and lowered the bowl he gasped, eyes flying wide open and the bowl dropping from his suddenly numb fingers.
Oh gods.
It was so much. The tingling that flowed down his throat spread, becoming a burning that rushed through his entire body before condensing in his chest, so hot it was freezing. He felt like his heart was about to burst, like every pump of his blood forced more and more of that heat into his heart, filling it to the brim until it seemed to strain against the cage of his ribs, like it wanted to tear itself right out of his chest.
His mind was flooded with a million conflicting sensations and emotions. Pain, sorrow, anger, fear, guilt- guilt? Why was he guilty- mourning, regret and terror swirling together until he couldn’t tell where he was. Who he was. Where Tim Drake ended and the rest of the world began.
Suddenly, with what he could have sworn was an audible snap, the pressure was too much and something in his chest gave, breaking open and expanding out in a direction Tim had never felt before. Tim felt himself reaching out into the space that was both everywhere and nowhere at all and something else reached back.
Whatever it was, the second Tim felt it all the pressure vanished, leaving him suddenly exhausted. He swayed at the sudden loss, pitching forward and vaguely feeling himself be caught against a soft, solid surface, bands of gentle pressure appearing across his back and around one of his shoulders.
Everything felt fuzzy, like his head was stuffed with cotton wool. The sensation in his chest, the way it had cracked open and reached across impossible space, almost seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. He felt like someone had forced open a long-rusted window in his heart, letting the breeze blow in, an entirely alien feeling where there had never been feeling before.
It was so jarring, taking up so much space in his mind, like a loose tooth you can’t help poking at, that there wasn’t room for much else. His body felt unreal, his thoughts seemed distant, slow to make their way through the haze he was bogged down in.
He was vaguely aware of his fear, his terror even. Knew something was happening and he was scared of it, but it felt so far away. He could also feel a whisper of guilt, coiling through him like smoke. It felt… weird? Like it hadn’t come from the same place as the rest of the emotions he could pick out in his own mind. What did he have to feel so guilty about? Where was it coming from?
His brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle it out. He didn’t get far though before the pressure- hand, that was probably a hand- around his shoulder shook him gently. He could vaguely sense movement around him, but it didn’t seem important right now. His shoulder though, that was probably worth paying attention to.
“We need to leave.” Came a soft voice from above him, speaking slowly enough that he could process the words, and gently enough that the volume wasn’t jarring. That was nice of the voice. Some of the other voices nearby could stand to learn from it. “Your family is still watching. You need to let them know you’re ok, they’re scared enough as it is.”
Tim’s brow furrowed further, his eyes opening as he squinted at the black cloth his face was resting against. He felt like his thoughts were swimming through treacle.
His family… why were they scared? Was it the same reason he was scared? And they were watching…
It was… the ritual. Right, right… he was told it would be overwhelming. So… so that’s why he was scared but wasn’t. That… that wasn’t good.
He raised a hand and pushed weakly at the chest he was leaning against, managing to straighten as the arms around him moved to support his new position. The man was right, he had to… he had to reassure them. Had to show them he was ok, that he was fine, he would be fine. Couldn’t make them worry.
He squinted at where they were standing, his vision a little blurry but cleared the longer his eyes were open.
His family looked terrified.
Bruce’s mask was cracked, naked fear splashed across his face like Tim had never seen. Cass was fully clutching at her brother now, no longer trying to hold him back, just trying to hold onto him. Jason didn’t look angry anymore. No, he looked scared, to scared to keep holding up the rage to hide behind. Stephanie and Dick had collapsed into each other, holding on desperately as they stared at Tim.
Would this be the last time he ever saw them? Would this be the last glimpse of him they got before he was taken away forever?
With one hand, and even that taking far more effort than it should, Tim managed to sign a few words at them.
“Ok. Tired. Love you. ”
Before he could try and get his thoughts in line to add more, the arms around him moved, gathering him up and easily lifting him off the ground.
“I’m so sorry. We have to go.” Came the whispered voice from the man holding him. From- from his husband.
Tim twisted slightly in his grip, catching one last glimpse of his horrified family before he was lifted onto a horse, the man climbing up behind him.
“Move out!” came the bellowing voice of Pariah Dark, and Tim flinched at the volume. The man’s arms wrapped around him, supporting his still woozy body as the horse started to move forward.
Tim tried to get one more look behind them, but there were too many other soldiers blocking his view. Within minutes they had crossed into the forest, the trees concealing even a glimpse of the imposing city walls.
The horses rode on, deeper and deeper into the forest, bringing Tim further and further away from his home, his family, his entire life.
Glancing up at the imposing figure of the High Chief rising ahead of them, a shudder ran through Tim as he wondered just what would await him on the other side of these woods.
Notes:
*throws suffering at you and runs away cackling*
Chapter 3
Notes:
I feel like I should maybe add a trigger warning at this point? Tim is gonna be dealing with, especially in the next few chapters, at least a little bit of fear of SA. I feel like it wouldn't be realistic for him not to, given the situation I've put him in. That being said, I really don't like writing that, its not what I want to focus on in this story, and absolutely nothing is actually going to happen, so its mostly going to be brought up only when Tim is learning that it won't happen, or when he already knows he's safe, if that makes sense. I haven't put it in the tags because I'm not planning to make it a big thing, but let me know if anyone thinks I should add it and I will.
Idk I think I'm rambling a bit but I debated with myself a lot about how I wanted to handle things in order to be realistic but not ick. tldr its implied but Tim isn't gonna have anything to actually be scared of and he'll figure that out, but I wanted to give a heads up just to be safe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The longer they rode, the more Tim’s mind and body settled back to normal.
Not entirely, no. The strange feeling of otherness in his chest never vanished, and the mystery thread of guilt didn’t abate, although it did seem to settle a little bit. But either the overwhelming nature of the feelings mellowed out or Tim just adjusted to them because after an hour or so on horseback he felt more or less normal. His head was clear, and his body was tired, but no longer so rag-doll weak.
Unfortunately, having his mind clear did not help matters. At all. If anything, it made it worse.
Since the ambush, he’d been running pretty much on straight terror and adrenaline. He was thrown from shock to shock, not getting any kind of chance to catch his balance before he was fully knocked on his ass by that ritual.
But now he was clear-headed, stuck on a horse probably until sundown, with nothing to do but think, and everything that had happened was really starting to sink in.
There would be no rescue.
Oh, he had no doubt his family would plan, would scheme and plot and look tirelessly for any way to get him back. But they couldn’t afford to break that treaty.
The hundred-year war was a slow conflict, as the name suggested. That was the only reason any of the kingdoms had held out this long. With such a long border spanning several different countries, the Infinite Lands had to defend from attacks on several fronts at once. That, combined with the rumours of turbulent internal conflict that had been popping up more and more recently, meant that outright attacks from Pariah’s armies were few and far between. There had only been a few in Tim’s lifetime. Most of the actual battles in the war had the Infinite Lands on the defensive, the Justrian alliance desperate to push for any advantage they could get.
But when they did come, attacks from Pariah were devastating. Cursed flames that burnt anything they touched and couldn’t be put out for months. Undead soldiers that would never tire. All manner of alien magics never seen before or since. Any territory the alliance had pushed into lost in an instant.
It was only thanks to the combined might of the alliance and all the magical defences their mages could provide that a single attack could be driven back, and even then, they always took heavy losses. It had been in one such battle that they had thought Jason was lost to them, even if he did eventually return.
If Bruce were to break the treaty and invoke not just Pariah’s anger, but his attention? His single-minded focus to seek retribution? Gotham would fall, and his family would fall with it. So, Bruce couldn’t break the treaty, couldn’t come for Tim.
And even if he did, Tim was headed deep into the Lands, quite possibly all the way to the capital, wherever that was. No one knew enough about the internal geography of the Lands to attempt a covert mission, the scouts were always caught too quickly. They would be found, and Tim would be dead long before they ever got anywhere near him.
So no, Tim was not getting rescued. And he couldn’t fight back and escape, he didn’t know if that would also count as a breach of the treaty.
He would live out the rest of his life, however short that may be, in the home of his country’s greatest enemy. His freedom taken from him. Kept alive only at the whim of the High Chief, because Tim was not stupid enough to think that the treaty would actually be enough to keep him safe for the whole five years. And even if it was, what would be done with him once those five years were up? Once he wasn’t needed anymore? Could he find a way out in that time?
Tim shuddered, trying his best to supress the motion, to hide it from the man at his back. His husband. The man Tim was now at the mercy of.
Tim could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes and tried desperately to stop his breath from hitching. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
He’d lost everything.
A few short hours and it was all gone. His home, his family, his freedom, all beyond his grasp. It wasn’t fair. Tim just wanted to help his people, to see his family happy and his kingdom prosper. He hadn’t asked to be stolen away like a shiny prize by an insane dictator.
He knew nothing about what was happening. He didn’t know where he was going, what his life would be like. Would he be expected to pretend he wasn’t a prisoner? Act like he was here of his own free will? Or would he be thrown straight in the dungeons, left to rot and forgotten about?
He could feel his fear mounting, each awful thought driving it higher and higher. He was terrified, the reality of his situation hitting him. He was completely helpless, trapped at the mercy of strangers who would offer him none.
A hand gently squeezed his shoulder, and he flinched, broken out of his spiral of terrified thoughts and into a much more immediate freeze response.
The man leant down a little to speak in his ear, quiet enough that the soldiers riding next to them wouldn’t hear. Tim supressed a shudder at the sensation of the man so close to him.
“It’s not safe to cry in front of these people. You can’t show them weakness. You need to hold on until we reach camp.”
Oh well, excuse Tim if the collapse of his whole world had him feeling a little emotional.
The little bite of anger was an almost welcome reprieve, but Tim had to admit the man was right. Not about the camp bit, he wasn’t about to trust that he’d be any safer there than he was right now, but about the rest of it.
He couldn’t afford to let his mask slip. He didn’t know how things worked here, and his composure was one of the few lines of defence he still had. Even if he’d apparently already messed that up in front of his husband, he couldn’t let the rest of the company see.
He closed his eyes and took deep steadying breaths, willing the tears away and pushing the emotions that threatened to choke him as far down as he could manage.
He felt the strange wisp of guilt grow stronger, but didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with that right now, too focused on keeping his breathing measured. He wasn’t about to start talking, even if he did need the distraction desperately, so he simply turned his attention to the forest around them. He tried to recall the names of every plant he could, mentally reciting key features, uses, distribution, whatever he could recall from his lessons, trying to keep his focus away from his roiling emotions.
Many of these plants wouldn’t be able to survive the cold, harsh climate of the Infinite Lands. This might be his last time seeing them.
He couldn’t afford to dwell on that right now, so he just tried his best to commit each one he saw to memory as the group rode on.
---
It was hours later when Pariah finally called a halt, and what Tim assumed were servants or the low-ranking soldiers started scrambling around setting up tents with amazing efficiency. Tim’s body was aching at this point from the long ride and the lingering exhaustion from the ritual, but the flurry of motion broke him out of the numb haze he’d settled into for the ride, and he tensed again at the change in routine.
The ride might not have been pleasant, but at least it was predictable and dull enough that even he couldn’t stay wired the whole way. Now though, now he was suddenly thrown back into the uncertainty, with no idea and no say in what was about to happen.
The man guided the horse over to a nearby tree and smoothly dismounted, looking up at Tim from beneath the low hood he had yet to remove and holding out a hand.
Tim swallowed nervously but took the hand without complaint and allowed it to help him off the horse, only staggering slightly at the soreness in his legs. He stood quietly while the man tied the horse to the tree and patted it a few times, before slinging the small pack he had over his shoulder and beckoning Tim forward and leading them into the rapidly appearing camp.
Tim followed, making sure not to stray too far from the man as other soldiers stared or jeered at them. Now was not the time to be rebellious. Maybe later, when he had a better understanding of where the lines where, what would happen if he crossed them. But right now, he needed to try and keep his head down.
The man ignored all the other soldiers, even as they sneered and called out things in their own language that Tim might not understand but could tell were impolite at best. From the looks on some of their faces, Tim honestly couldn’t tell if the jeers were directed at him or the man he was with. He stuck close behind him regardless, not eager to get left behind in such an openly hostile environment.
They reached a finished tent, and the man grabbed the flap and held it open, gesturing Tim inside. Tim stepped through but spun around again once he was passed the threshold, taking a few steps further into the tent, loath to leave his back open any longer than necessary.
The man followed him in and closed the flap, fastening the ties shut. Then he let out a deep breath of air and just… stood there. Hands still gripping the ties, his back to Tim, his head partially tilted down to the floor.
Tim stood frozen, his heartbeat loud in his ears in the sudden quiet of the tent. Without the questionable buffer of the rest of the company surrounding them, it felt too quiet, too still, too stifling to be trapped inside, even if it was just flimsy canvas separating them from the rest of the camp.
This was the first time he’d been alone with his- with his husband, and Tim couldn’t move as he felt the air in the room thickening with the tension that grew the longer the other man stayed silent, feeling time stretch even if realistically it had been less than a minute.
Tim felt his heartrate increasing, his fear spiking, and saw the man wince, hunching into himself slightly. The little wisp of guilt in Tim’s chest seemed to grow more solid- and seriously, what was with that- and the man turned around, fidgeting with his hands in a show of nervousness he hadn’t done outside, as he faced Tim, head still tilted towards the ground.
“I- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About- all of it. This whole thing. I know it doesn’t mean anything coming from me considering- considering the part I played in it. But I really am so sorry this happened. That I couldn’t stop it. I-” he seemed to hesitate for a moment, then pushed his hood back and looked up to meet Tim’s eyes. “I can’t promise you’ll be safe here. And I know you have no reason to believe me about this, or trust me at all, and I know this doesn’t make up for anything, but I promise to do whatever I can to protect you. To try and keep you safe.”
Tim eyed him warily. He’d expected a lot of things when they were eventually left alone together, but this hadn’t been one of them.
Underneath the hood his husband didn’t look much older than he was, which eased one of the many curls of worry he hadn’t wanted to examine too closely. Honestly if he tried to tell Tim he was much older than eighteen or nineteen Tim wouldn’t believe him. He was several inches taller than Tim, but they seemed to have a similar slender build, although it was difficult to tell under the cloak he still wore. That was about where the similarities ended though. Where Tim had the black hair and blue eyes so common in the Gotham royal family, his husband was unmistakable in his heritage to the Infinite Lands.
Most of the other soldiers Tim had seen so far had been heavily armoured, with almost all of their features obscured by helmets. The glowing eyes though, were unmistakeable. Unlike the eerie red shared by the wraiths, his husband’s eyes were a vibrant, brilliant green, highlighting his pure snowy white hair and skin paler than even Tim’s fair complexion.
He looked magical. Not like the sorcerers and mages Tim had met before, this man looked like magic itself, like he had been imbued with it, formed from it. Tim had never seen anyone, or anything like him.
And he had apologised to Tim.
Tim… didn’t know what to make of that. It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t… he looked sincere. Like he might actually mean it. But Tim couldn’t afford to trust that. Couldn’t afford to trust anything and he…
He was so tired.
He was tired and stressed and sad and so, so scared. He just wanted to lie down and pretend this was all a bad dream, that he was back at home in Gotham, that he’d never left, and he’d wake up to his siblings teasing him for falling asleep at his desk again. He wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from every awful thing that had happened today.
But he couldn’t. He had nowhere safe to hide. Which, right now, meant he had to deal with the man still waiting for him to respond, his glowing eyes having moved back to the floor, his shoulders hunched.
Tim didn’t know how to safely deal with everything the man had just said, or how to even try to unpack his own emotions, let alone the ones he’d seen on the other man’s face, so for now he shifted his focus to something else.
“What’s your name?” he asked, probably too bluntly.
The man looked startled for a moment, like that wasn’t the question he was expecting, or like he hadn’t expected Tim to answer at all maybe.
“I’m… I’m Danny. In front of other people, I go by Phantom, but here… you can call me Danny.”
Tim nodded absently. Danny. Sure. It seemed a surprisingly normal name for one of Pariah Dark’s generals, but then what did he know. Honestly, Tim was feeling a little numb to everything at this point. He couldn’t relax, he wasn’t safe, but he also wasn’t in danger right this very second, and he couldn’t quite muster up the energy to maintain the terror he’d had earlier, leaving him feeling dull and brittle.
Danny glanced at him, looking concerned, before dropping his eyes back to the floor and fidgeting with his hands again. Honestly, he just looked awkward, like any other teenager. It was kind of disconcerting.
“Uh… Can I- Could I ask your name as well?” Danny asked, rubbing at the back of his neck and still looking at the floor.
Tim’s gaze snapped back to Danny’s face from where it had started to drift to the rest of the tent and his brow furrowed.
“You don’t already know it?” He blurted out before he could think better of it, genuinely confused.
He probably should have been a bit more diplomatic, should have tried to respond with a bit more tact, but honestly this entire situation was throwing him off. Danny wasn’t acting anything like he’d expected and now he apparently didn’t know Tim’s name? Sure, Tim hadn’t known his either, but Tim was a known figure and besides, he hadn’t been the one to wake up today planning to marry a prince of Gotham. At least, he assumed that Danny had known this would happen. It only made sense, right?
Danny was looking more awkward at his question, looking as if he was thoroughly investigating the floor for any blemish. Or possibly for a way out of this situation.
“No, I don’t. I- I’m only passingly familiar with the Gotham royal family, and then no one bothered to tell me which prince you were before-” he cut himself off, wincing.
Tim took a deep breath, determined not to react to the reminder of what had happened.
“Right. Well, I’m Timothy Drake, the third Prince of Gotham.” Tim said flatly, wrapping his arms around himself and taking his turn to stare at the floor.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Danny mumbled and Tim couldn’t help the bitter laugh he let out.
“I- I just mean-” Danny tried to backtrack, but Tim, feeling raw and exhausted and with not an inch of padding left in him to keep up the unaffected front, spoke right over him.
“Forgive me if I can’t say the same, husband. ” He bit out, glaring at Danny in what was a very stupid move, but at least it helped keep the tears from reaching his eyes.
Instead of looking offended or furious though, Danny looked gutted. That strange curl of guilt in Tim’s chest swirled to life again. Tim ignored it, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms tightly over his chest, trying to hold onto the anger, trying to force the tears back.
“I’m sorry.” Danny whispered and Tim scoffed.
“Sorry. Sorry for what? For kidnapping me? For threatening my family? For whatever the hells that ritual did to me? For forcing me to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and everyone I’ve ever loved to become a political hostage for my country’s greatest enemy?”
His voice rose steadily, and he barely had the presence of mind to keep himself from shouting. Danny didn’t react though, just kept his head down and took everything Tim spat at him before answering him quietly.
“Yes. To all of that. I’m so sorry for everything we’ve done to you.”
Tim didn’t respond to that, just grit his teeth and turned away, refusing to look at Danny. Refusing to let the soft-spoke words affect him.
After a long moment Danny sighed quietly.
“I’m going to go get some food for us. I- I won’t stop you, but I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to leave the tent alone right now. It’s… It wouldn’t be safe.”
Tim considered going against him just to be contrary, to test whether he was lying when he said he wouldn’t stop him but ultimately decided against it. He’d seen the men as they’d walked past, Danny wasn’t lying about the danger. Disobeying Danny right now would gain him nothing and potentially lose him a lot.
“Fine.” He gritted out, not turning around.
Danny sighed in what Tim could almost believe was relief.
“Thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He said, voice still quiet. Then, strangely, he bowed once to Tim, before turning and making his way out of the tent, letting the flap fall shut behind him, and leaving Tim alone.
Tim stood for a moment, wavering, before he slumped, his arms wrapping around himself in a hug as he felt the anger abandon him, leaving him drained and cold and alone.
He dully looked around at the tent he was in, taking in the details properly for the first time, not that there was much to see. It was tall enough to stand upright in the centre, with the sides sloping down a little on either side before dropping into vertical walls, forming a small canvas room around him.
There was a small lamp, not yet lit, and the bag Danny had brought from the horse. The tent was long enough for a tall man to lie comfortably but narrow enough that Tim could hold his arms out and touch both walls at once should he wish to. In one corner was a bedroll, still packed away.
There was, Tim couldn’t help but notice, only the one bedroll.
He sighed, moving to sit leaning against the rolled-up bedding, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his forehead against them.
This was all just… too much. It hadn’t sunk in yet, that this wasn’t just an awful day. That he wasn’t being ransomed back, he was being kept as a hostage. That this was the rest of his life. He just didn’t have the space to really deal with the fallout of that yet, not when they were still on the road, not when he needed to stay on guard, to try and figure out what shape he was expected to occupy.
As it was, he just… sat.
He could vaguely hear the rest of camp outside, but he couldn’t understand them, and he couldn’t see them and none of them were trying to get in, so it was easier to pretend they weren’t there. Easier to just let himself… drift for a moment.
He was still sat like that, gazing dully at the opposite wall, when the tent flap opened again, and Danny came in holding two steaming bowls.
Tim didn’t have the energy to react beyond a quiet thank you as he was handed the bowl, and Danny seemed to sense that, or maybe he just looked that much of a wreck, because he didn’t try to break the heavy silence between them as he sat on the opposite side of the tent, leaving Tim free to focus on not falling asleep into his dinner.
Finally, once Tim had finished eating, Danny spoke into the stillness of the tent.
“You should get some sleep. You must be exhausted, and it’s another long ride tomorrow. I’ll keep watch.”
Tim blinked at him, a little stupidly, and glanced between him and the bedroll Tim was leaning against.
“You’re not-” he started, then stopped, not sure how to finish the question. He wasn’t about to protest having a bed to himself for one more night, but it was a shock to have it offered so readily. Besides, the tent didn’t offer much insulation, and it was already freezing. It would only get colder overnight, and Danny did not look at all like he was dressed for it.
Danny apparently understood what he was getting at though, because he smiled softly and shook his head.
“The cold doesn’t really affect me very much. And I can get by with a lot less sleep than normal people can. I’ll be fine.”
Tim wasn’t exactly sure how to take the information that his husband was apparently just as magical as he looked, and from the way he spoke, more magical than even other citizens of the Infinite Lands. He wasn’t even sure if that would be a good or bad thing for Tim in the long run. He supposed it didn’t really matter right now.
“I- alright.” He agreed and stood to start unrolling the bedding. Danny gathered up their dishes and sat himself against the wall over by the door, next to where Tim’s feet would be. Tim was grateful for that, in a small way, as he settled himself into the makeshift bed. He couldn’t see Danny from this angle, and he could almost pretend this was a normal camping trip with his family or friends as he closed his eyes.
Somehow, despite the exhaustion literally dragging at him, begging him to rest, Tim couldn’t fall asleep.
His mind felt overfull, swirling with a hundred different thoughts and a thousand different feelings, none of which he had time to unpack right now. He lay on his back in the dark, acutely aware of the sound of his breathing, staring up into the blackness, his body filled with tension he couldn’t banish for the life of him, for a long time before Danny quietly cleared his throat.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, voice lowered to a whisper in deference to the darkness, “If you need to cry then I’ll keep you safe.”
And that was apparently what his body needed to hear, because his next breath hitched on a sob without his permission. He rolled onto his side, curling into a ball and trying to stay as quiet as possible, but he couldn’t stop the tears that leaked from his eyes, or the way his body shuddered and shook with the force of the muffled sobs.
He cried for a long time.
He cried mourning the life he was leaving behind, the home and kingdom and friends and family that he had been torn from. The future he had taken for granted that now he would never see.
He cried out the terror that had settled in his gut, of the horrors he might face, of the trials the dawn might bring.
He cried in confusion and fear and anger and sorrow and aching, aching loss.
And when he had run out of tears, feeling wrung out and thoroughly spent, Danny had not moved from the door, and he fell asleep knowing that, at least for this one night, someone was watching his back.
Notes:
Danny and Tim are both 17 here btw
Chapter Text
Tim woke up slowly, rolling over with a groan as he peeled open his eyes to blink at the unfamiliar ceiling and slowly tried to bring his brain online.
There were noises filtering in from outside. People moving around, a mix of voices speaking words Tim didn’t recognise, the occasional sound of a horse.
Tim’s body ached like it always did after spending too long on horseback, he must have forgotten to stretch last night. There was also a strange feeling in his chest that he felt like he should be worried about, but he couldn’t quite remember-
“Good morning.”
The quiet voice was like a shock of cold water, Tim tensing as yesterday’s memories flooded his mind.
He sat up cautiously, freeing his upper body from the blankets but not leaving them entirely. The morning air was frigid, and he had not dressed for this kind of weather when he’d left the castle yesterday.
Danny was still sitting where he had been when Tim fell asleep last night, although the bowls had disappeared, replaced by a bread roll and a few strips of dried meat that he offered to Tim with a small smile, the tent being small enough that he didn’t even have to stand to reach him.
“Here. The camp doesn’t always have the best fare for breakfast, but you’re going to want something in your stomach before we head off.”
Tim took it cautiously, still not quite sure what to make of his new husband. So far nothing about Danny had been what Tim expected, and Tim wasn’t sure whether to be confused or nervous about that. It was… it was a good thing, Tim did not want to be treated the way he’d been expecting, but it left him off balance, wondering when the other shoe would drop.
“Thank you.” He said, but Danny just waved it off. Tim couldn’t help noticing that even the casual motion was done slowly enough to avoid startling him. He wished he could hate that kind of treatment, but it was honestly a fair assessment of his state right now. He wasn’t in danger of the kind of collapse he’d had last night, but he still felt sharp and brittle and constantly on edge. His nerves were still worn thin.
“Don’t worry about it. While you eat, there’s a few things I should probably explain to you before we go out today.”
Tim swallowed around the lump in his throat, suddenly nervous again. Danny didn’t look worried about what he was about to say, but then why would he?
“Alright.” He settled on saying, before taking a bite of the bread. It was a little stale, but honestly pretty good considering. It had a deeper flavour than most of the bread back home, probably made with a different kind of flour.
“Ok, so,” Danny settled himself cross-legged on the floor, with his hands resting in his lap. “The first thing I want to go over is names, since I’m pretty sure we use them differently than you might be used to.”
Tim tilted his head, curious. Was this about the different names Danny had given him yesterday?
“Essentially, in the Infinite Lands people will have a true name and a chosen name. The true name is normally the one you’re given by your parents when you’re born, although not always, some people change them as they get older. You only share your true name with people who are close to you and that you trust, and you only use a person’s true name around people who already know it. It’s considered extremely rude to use or deliberately share someone’s true name without permission. Like, rude to the point that I’ve seen fights break out over it.”
Tim nodded along, eyes wide, as he took another bite of bread. So be very, very careful with names and they took disrespect seriously here, got it.
“Then there’s chosen names,” Danny continued. “As you might guess, these are the names that people choose for themselves, and are used in public, or with strangers and people you aren’t close to. So, for me, my chosen name is Phantom and that’s what I go by almost all the time. Its only in private with a few specific people that I use Danny.”
Tim furrowed his brow. Only a few people knew his true name, but he gave it away to a guy he just met? An enemy prince, no less?
Tim bit his lip, but decided to risk asking the question, Danny so far had been fairly happy to offer explanations, and he was currently Tim’s best, and only, source of information on the Infinite Lands. And he hadn’t punished Tim for his outburst yesterday, hadn’t even brought it up again.
“Then… why did you tell me your true name yesterday? We’ve only just met, we hadn’t even had a proper conversation at that point.”
Danny looked a little embarrassed at the question, as well as… ashamed? It was difficult to read the emotion in his eyes when he kept getting distracted by the otherworldly glow in them, but he was pretty sure that was some kind of guilt.
“Ah. That’s… that’s the other thing I wanted to explain to you. Before I do though, while I’m honoured to be granted your true name, you shouldn’t use that to introduce yourself to everyone here.”
“Even if a lot of them already know it, or could easily guess?” Tim asked. Even if Danny hadn’t known, surely not everyone in the Infinite Lands was so oblivious to their neighbours. Afterall, Pariah had been able to recognise him as a prince on sight despite him not wearing anything to signify it, so he at least must already know Tim’s name.
“Yes. Even if your true name is not a secret, there’s a big difference between someone knowing it and you allowing them to use it.”
Tim nodded, biting his lip. That made sense, he supposed. Afterall, it would be very difficult to keep your name hidden from everyone for your entire life, especially if you had a falling out with someone you used to be close with. Presumably, that would mean they couldn’t use your name anymore, but it wasn’t like you could just make them forget it.
The problem was, at the mention of coming up with his own, his mind had gone completely blank. He had absolutely no ideas. Hells, he only knew two people’s chosen names, he didn’t even know what would be a normal sounding name to pick. Pariah Dark and Phantom both sounded fairly spooky, did they all have to be like that?
“Am I allowed to change it later?” He asked, feeling relieved when Phantom nodded.
“Yes, most people settle into one they like as they become adults and then stick with it, but it’s not unheard of for people at any age to choose a new one. It’s known as finding a name, when you pick a new one. Teenagers especially, will often find a name every other week for a while.” He chuckled a little, and Tim found himself relaxing as Danny continued.
“If you’d like, we can simply introduce you as Prince until you settle in and find a name you like better. It’s not uncommon to refer to someone by their rank, and we don’t have any princes of our own to get confused with, so it would work well enough as a name for now.”
“Then I’ll go by that for now. Thank you. For explaining all this.”
Tim still couldn’t trust this man, still didn’t know anything about him, but he was genuinely grateful to him for offering explanations before Tim put his foot in his mouth in public. It wouldn’t hurt to express that.
Danny just looked embarrassed again, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck as he avoided Tim’s eyes.
“It’s no problem. The least I can do really after…” Danny mumbled, which. Tim definitely agreed, but he hadn’t been expecting Danny to admit it.
Although maybe he should have? Danny had apologised, multiple times in fact. And Tim hadn’t been able to spot any dishonesty when he’d done it.
But it didn’t make sense! If Danny was so sorry for everything, then why was he the one Tim was married to?
Why would Pariah have Tim marry one of his generals, and then pick the one that apparently didn’t want to do any of this? It made no sense, and Tim didn’t understand enough of the situation to make any assumptions yet.
Danny had been kind to him so far, had apologised and explained things and promised to keep him safe. And right now, he was the only possible ally Tim had in this place, so Tim was going to try his best to stick beside him.
But he could not afford to take what Danny said at face value. Not yet. He had to look out for himself here.
He cleared his throat, looking to get them back to the conversation from earlier.
“What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?”
Danny blinked for a moment, like he’d been deep in thought, before nodding.
“Right. Yes, uh…” Danny bit his lip, looking like he’d much rather keep talking about names. He pushed forward though. “I wanted to talk about the marriage ceremony we did. You seemed unfamiliar with it, and then something you said yesterday made me think… you might not know exactly what it does?”
Tim froze.
No, he didn’t know what it did. He had no idea, and quite frankly remembering the fear he’d felt sitting there was making him break out in a cold sweat, but he was sure as shit that it had done something to him. Hells, the shock of it had practically knocked him out.
“No, I don’t. I’ve never heard of a ritual like it, let alone seen or participated in one myself.”
Danny nodded miserably, like that was the answer he’d expected.
“I thought as much. I know that it is very different from the traditions in Justria.”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, before looking back up at Tim.
“It’s essentially a bonding ritual. This specific one is pretty commonly done because it’s a lot quicker and easier than some of the more… traditional versions. It can technically be done for all kinds of relationships by changing the sigil that is drawn, but its most commonly a marriage ritual, which is the one we did.”
Tim’s hands were clenched in his lap, hidden under the bedding, as he listened to Danny speak. He was trying very hard to keep the tension from showing on his face, but he didn’t think he was very successful if Danny’s demeanour was anything to go by.
“What exactly do you mean by bonding?” He asked, voice flat. Danny winced again.
“It’s… it’s designed to forge a connection between two people. Between their souls. It allows them to feel some of the other’s emotions and can help them locate each other if they get separated. Since we have that kind of connection now, that’s enough for you to be considered a citizen of the Infinite Lands, which is why you should use names like we do. And I know you might not feel the same, and I wouldn’t ask you to, but to me this makes you part of my clan. Which is why I gave you my name even if we don’t know each other.” Danny explained, looking ashamed.
Tim was pretty sure the fear was visible on his face now as he took in what Danny had just told him.
Not that it mattered, since Danny had apparently been able to feel that fear the whole time, oh gods. Was that what that strange bit of guilt was? Him feeling Danny’s emotions? How was he supposed to hide anything now? He could keep up a façade with the best of them, but what use was that when someone could just sense emotions, he was hiding without even having to try?
And the locating part! He would never be able to escape, even if he tried. Danny could just follow the fucking binding he had tied to his soul, and it would lead him right to him!
“Is it permanent?” Tim asked through gritted teeth, clinging to his composure by a thread.
Danny hesitated, cutting a nervous glance to the door and back again before speaking, each word sounding carefully chosen.
“If one party dies then the bond will break, although it is supposedly very painful. There… There is another way to end it though, a ritual like the one we just did that will nullify the bond,” and here he raised his voice a little, leaning towards the doorway, “but obviously that is not an option here, as the High Chief has ordered this match. It cannot be broken without his permission.”
“But-” Tim started, but Danny pressed a finger to his lips, shaking his head slightly. He leaned closer to Tim and spoke softly.
“This is not the place to speak of such things. Too many of the walls have ears, you understand.” He glanced meaningfully towards the door again.
Did that imply… that Danny would talk of such things, if no one could overhear? It was one thing to be kind to a prisoner, or feel guilt towards one, but that would surely count as treason, wouldn’t it?
He couldn’t be sure yet, by the sounds of things these were dangerous discussions to be having, something he couldn’t bring up lightly until he was sure how Danny would react. He’d have to see what Danny was like behind closed doors, since apparently, he’d been keeping listeners in mind this whole time.
It seemed unlikely that a general, clearly a trusted one since he’d been the one Tim was given to, would be so willing to go against the High Chief, but if he was? Then things might just be looking up for Tim.
For the moment though, he simply nodded his understanding and Danny smiled, looking relieved.
“Good. Then for the moment, Timothy, we should find you something warmer to wear.” He turned and started rummaging through the bag in the corner. “I packed a few extra clothes, since the High Chief wasn’t likely to…” He faltered at the reminder of what exactly had happened the day before but rallied to finish the sentence. “…give you much time to pack.”
He cleared his throat, gathering up a bundle of clothes and offering them to Tim.
“Anyway, these should work for today. I wasn’t sure they’d fit, but I think we’re close enough in size that it should be ok. And they’ll be a lot warmer than what you have now.”
Tim accepted the pile gratefully, he had not been eager to leave the warmth of the bedding dressed as he was.
“Thank you.” He hesitated for a moment. “And… you can call me Tim.”
“What?” Danny tilted his head, and Tim fidgeted a little.
If he understood what Danny had been saying earlier, then this should count as some kind of display of trust right? He might not actually trust Danny, not yet, not completely, but he’d been kinder so far than anything Tim had been expecting or even hoping for, and Tim wanted to offer an olive branch, of sorts. And this wouldn’t hurt him even if he was wrong about Danny.
“My name. Timothy is my full name, but outside of official stuff I normally go by Tim. I- You can call me that.” He blushed a little, uncountably embarrassed by the offer, even if it wasn’t his traditions this was apparently significant to.
He chanced a look up to see Danny’s reaction and was surprised to see the general’s cheeks were very faintly blushing pink. Tim watched, his eyebrows raised at the reaction he’d apparently got to that statement, as Danny cleared his throat, studiously avoiding eye contact.
“I- Thank you, Tim. I’m honoured to know your name.” He cleared his throat again. “I’ll let you get changed. We need to leave shortly, so I’ll be back once I ready the horse.” He bowed once more to an increasingly bemused Tim, before spinning on his heel and leaving the tent.
Tim shook his head at the strange behaviour. Apparently offering your name like that was a bigger deal than he’d thought, based on Danny’s reaction. Still, he definitely hadn’t been upset about it, so Tim was just gonna chalk that one up as a win and leave it at that.
He had a closer look at the clothes in his hands. It looked like mostly outer gear, so with only minimal shuddering at the cold, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled the clothes on over what he was already wearing. No sense in losing layers after all.
Once he was dressed, including the warm fur hat that thankfully covered his ears, Tim packed away the bedroll, setting it back in the corner
Just as he was wondering how much longer it would be, Danny pushed open the tent flap and stepped inside.
He’d managed to compose himself, Tim couldn’t help but notice. No sign of how flustered he’d been when he left.
“Alright, are you ready to go?”
Tim nodded and Danny turned back to the exit before hesitating, looking back over his shoulder at Tim.
“Remember what I said about names. Outside we are Phantom and Prince. And just…” he bit his lip, “Stay close to me, ok? Not everyone out there is going to be the most… welcoming, of you.”
Tim nodded again, more seriously, and followed Danny- no, followed Phantom out into the weak morning sunlight.
He’d almost forgotten, after how shockingly friendly Danny had been, after the courtesy he’d been shown, exactly whose camp he was currently in.
One step outside their tent made that very clear. The atmosphere immediately hardened, and every face Tim saw paused to either scowl or jeer at the pair of them as they walked through the camp. Many of them muttered to each other, some not even bothering to lower their voice as they called out what Tim was sure were not compliments.
He gulped and stuck close behind Phantom, keeping his head down to avoid making eye contact with any of the enemy soldiers.
As they passed by a larger cluster of men, one of them called something out to Phantom, the others laughing uproariously at whatever had been said. Tim recognised that tone of voice from the kind of sleazeballs Jason would kick the shit out of, and he stiffened, anger and fear swirling in his gut.
He saw Phantom’s steps also stutter as the man spoke, but he kept walking, ignoring the man and his friends as their laughs followed them.
The fact that Phantom hadn’t shown any real reaction to the comment might have made Tim nervous… if it weren’t for the fact that he could feel a little curl of fury in his chest that was distinctly not his own.
He might not know exactly what had been said, but he could make a pretty good guess and the fact that Phantom’s reaction to it mirrored his own felt like another bit of weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He still couldn’t be sure, he’d only known Phantom a day, had never been truly alone with him, but from what he’d seen so far… he was pretty sure Phantom wasn’t a threat to him in that sense. He’d still keep his guard up, but it looked like that wasn’t something he needed to be afraid of from Phantom, which was good considering he was the one Tim was married to. One less thing to fear.
Not that he didn’t have plenty else to be afraid of, he thought as they rounded a tent and arrived at an open area on the edge of camp.
Tim shrunk into himself, unable to help it, as he spotted Pariah Dark standing on the right side of the clearing, speaking with a group of soldiers, one standing a few feet behind him holding a horse. The high chief didn’t even look their way as they walked across, thankfully towards the left side, but Tim could still feel the weight of his presence weighing down on him.
He shuddered slightly at the feeling as Phantom stopped in front of the horse they’d ridden together yesterday.
“It’ll be ok.” Danny murmured to him, keeping his voice low enough not to carry. “He’s busy organising the journey today, and once we arrive there will be enough issues built up during his absence that he probably won’t bother to pay attention to us for a few days.”
For a moment Tim was confused, but then he saw the sympathetic look Phantom was giving him and remembered.
The bond. Right. Phantom could sense the fear he was feeling towards the Pariah Dark.
Tim scowled at the horse’s flank, embarrassed at being read so easily and ignoring the way the fear had lessened at Phantom’s reassurance.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll have to get used to you reading my mind, huh?”
He saw Phantom wince from the corner of his eye, but both of them stayed facing the horse, as if she could shield them from the rest of the camp.
“Not reading your mind. Only really strong emotions come through the bond, but when I felt the fear spike as soon as the High Chief was in view… it was an educated guess.” He glanced at Tim for a moment. “If it helps, you’ll be able to feel just as much from me once you get more used to it.”
It did, a little. Not enough to make him happy about the bond’s existence, but at least he’d be able to get something out of it.
“How can you already get stuff from it so easily?” He asked, “I mean, didn’t it form at the same time for both of us?”
“It did. And I am still getting accustomed to yours but, well…” He reached out to adjust the bridle, as if his hands needed something to fidget with. “This isn’t the first bond I’ve had. Never done one with the marriage sigil before though, that much is new to both of us. But I guess the extra practice makes it easier, I already know how to tell someone else’s feelings apart from my own.”
Tim tilted his head curiously. He remembered Phantom mentioning that the ritual could be used for different types of bonds with different sigils, but he hadn’t really thought about it at the time, too overwhelmed.
Now he was curious what the other kinds of relationships that had sigils that could make a bond. And which had Phantom himself used before?
“How many bonds do you have now?” Tim asked.
Phantom looked nervous at the question, biting his lip and glancing over at where Pariah was taking his horse from the soldier.
“Four.” Phantom whispered to him, before untying the reigns from the tree branch.
Tim wanted to ask more questions, but Phantom was obviously uncomfortable talking about this in public, so he let the matter drop. Maybe Pariah didn’t know about the other bonds? But then why would Phantom tell Tim so easily?
Shaking his head, he let Phantom help him onto the horse. Since Tim wasn’t half unconscious like he’d been yesterday, he sat in the saddle behind Phantom, holding on around the other man’s waist.
Ahead of them the High Chief roared something in the language Tim didn’t understand, and as one all the soldiers on horseback began to move forward, with Tim and Phantom somewhere in the middle of the party.
As they moved, Phantom tilted his head to speak quietly to Tim.
“We’ll ride for most of the day and arrive at the capital by sundown.”
Tim gulped but nodded and Phantom turned his attention back to riding, even though he could probably feel how nervous Tim was.
One more day, and then the journey would be over, and Tim would see just what his new life would look like.
Notes:
Danny is trying his best and Tim manages to get even just a little bit of explanation. He still has no clue what's happening, which. Fair enough honestly, it doesn't make much sense from his perspective. But fear not, all will be revealed in time, mwahahaha
Chapter 5
Notes:
Who's excited to finally arrive at the main setting of this story? I sure am, and I don't want to talk about how many words it took to get here. What I have written is already longer than any of my other fics and I feel like I've barely started the story I want to tell. But, oh well, I knew it was gonna be crazy going into it, and I'm having a great time and hopefully you are too.
Now, onward!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun was low in the sky, painting the clouds around it in brilliant shades of pink and orange, by the time they arrived at Pariah’s keep.
Tim had been able to see it coming for miles, they were in the depths of a wide valley and the towers of the keep loomed over everything else in the capital. They had passed by a few small villages earlier in the day, but for the most part Tim had been shocked by how barren the landscape was. There was no snow on the ground, it likely was still too early in the year for it, but it was clearly coming.
The ground was hard and frozen, the plants thin and bare. The whole place felt harsh. He couldn’t imagine someone choosing to make their home here.
As they rode into the capital, by far the largest settlement Tim had seen in the Lands so far, even if it would be dwarfed by most cities back home, Tim took note of the wary eyes of the citizens. They shrunk back off the road, into doorways and alleys, trying to stay out of sight, keeping their heads down.
It seemed that even in his own lands, Pariah was looked at with fear.
They rode up the main street until they reached the gates set in the imposing outer walls of the keep. As they approached, the portcullis was ponderously raised, the gates swung open, so that the High Chief could lead the party in without pausing.
Tim glanced around as they passed through the gates and emerged into a stone courtyard. The outer wall wrapped around them, cutting them off from the rest of the city, and ahead of them loomed the keep itself, steps leading up to the imposing front door across from the gates they’d just entered from.
Tim could see a number of smaller building and structures, although he couldn’t tell their function, and a few smaller doors presumably leading into different parts of the keep.
In front of the steps was a small crowd of people, standing in fiercely regimented lines, awaiting the party. As Pariah rode in all of them bowed, calling something Tim didn’t understand. If Tim had to guess, the front row were probably Pariah’s council, maybe advisors or similar, while behind them looked more like servants.
Tim’s guess was proven right when Pariah stopped and gave the signal for the party to dismount. The front row moved to start speaking with Pariah and some of the other men from the party, while people from the back row scurried forward to take the reins of the horses, keeping their heads down.
He had noticed it with the citizens of the city outside, but Tim was fascinated by how people of the lands looked somehow both magical and perfectly mundane at the same time. As a rule, their eyes had a faint glow, but they weren’t any kind of unusual colour beyond that. Looking at a crowd, it was surprisingly easy to forget about. As well, their clothing was cut obviously differently than the fashions Tim was used to, but nothing about it struck him as alien.
The strangest thing compared to what Tim was used to was seeing the fear all of the stable hands were doing their best to hide.
In Gotham, in fact in any of the countries Tim had visited in the Justrian alliance, there was certainly respect offered by servants, but Tim knew several of the Gothamite stable hands by name and would happily joke with them when he went out for a ride. Seeing this level of fear from people who lived and worked here, who weren’t captives like Tim, made something in his gut squirm uncomfortably. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.
Phantom slid off the horse, offering a pinched smile to the bowing stableboy as he handed over the reins. Tim followed suit and the stableboy bowed to them both, not meeting their eyes, before leading the horse away.
Pariah turned back towards the troop for a moment and called out to the gathered soldiers, surprisingly enough speaking in English.
“Report tomorrow at eight for debriefing. The rest of the night is yours. Dismissed.”
Tim didn’t think he’d imagined the glance the High Chief’s had shot in his direction as he spoke. The soldiers all bowed, Tim following half a second later when Phantom tugged on his hand.
Pariah turned and swept into the keep, his advisors following along behind him, and now Tim definitely wasn’t imagining the smirks and sneers the other soldiers were sending him.
Tim could feel both his and Phantom’s rage spike in his chest, his own tempered with a healthy dose of fear, but Phantom just turned from the crowd and pulled Tim away towards one of the smaller doors, ignoring the jeering coming from behind them.
Once the small door slammed shut behind them, leaving them alone in a stone hallway, Phantom let go of Tim’s hand but did not relax or stop walking. Tim buried his hands in the pockets of his coat and followed close behind, his head on a swivel as they passed through the keep, but taking his cue from Phantom and staying silent.
Eventually, after enough different hallways and corners and staircases that Tim was quite thoroughly lost, they reached a nondescript wooden door. Phantom pulled out a key that sat on a string around his neck and unlocked the door, ushering Tim inside and locking it again behind them.
They were in what Tim could only assume were Danny’s rooms. They were currently in a small sitting room type place, with two small couches facing each other over a low table, a desk in one corner facing out the window, and a bookshelf against one wall. It wasn’t exactly roomy, and nothing was particularly elaborate, but all the furniture looked comfortable enough and the windows let in a soft stream of light from the setting sun.
Along one wall was another door, half closed so that Tim couldn’t see inside, but Tim was going to make an educated guess that that was Danny’s bedroom.
Danny turned away from the door and opened his mouth as if to speak, before pausing. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he peered around the room. He glanced at Tim and pressed a finger to his lips before stretching his hands out in front of him, fingers spread and palms facing the ground.
As Tim watched, green particles of light started to gather around Danny’s hands, and his eyes flashed brighter, practically shining. The little particles of light started to gather into threads, spreading away from Danny’s hands and out into the rest of the room, trails of them lighting up the boundaries of the room, along the floor, tracing the door frame, spilling out into the next room over. A sheen of them formed a delicate layer over the windows.
A thin line of red appeared, tracing the doorway, but it was overwhelmed by the green and dissolved away into nothing.
Tim watched, in awe at the casual display of power unlike any he had seen before. He was familiar with mages, hell, since Duke’s adoption he knew far more about magical fundamentals from watching his training than any person would expect. But still, none of that had been anything like this, no preparation, no spells, no ingredients, not even a word. Just pure unfiltered magic practically spilling out of Danny at the wave of a hand.
Once every line of the room was traced and glowing solid green, Danny sighed and let his hands drop, the glow fading both from him and the walls, leaving only the faint glow of his eyes.
“Ok, we can speak freely now. Someone just messed with the wards while I was away.”
Tim blinked.
“Those were wards?” He’d certainly never heard of warding being done like that. Danny just nodded though, as if it were nothing particularly of note.
“Yeah, alarms and anti-surveillance ones mainly. I wouldn’t be allowed to have actual defence wards, but anyone strong enough would make sure no one can enter their rooms or spy on them as a matter of course, so I can get away with it.”
Something about that phrasing niggled at Tim, but he set it aside for now as he watched Danny practically collapse onto one of the couches with a sigh. He slumped, head tilted back, and eyes closed, all the tension he’d carried the entire time Tim had known him dropping off his shoulders for a moment.
Tim moved to sit on the couch opposite, sitting straight with his hands folded in his lap. He quietly sat watching Danny for a long moment before Danny opened his eyes and sat up with a deep breath, meeting Tim’s gaze.
“I imagine you have questions?”
Tim nodded. He had questions. He had so many questions, many of which may not be safe to ask. Many of which would likely not get an answer. Many of which would be wildly stupid to say to someone’s face. Best to start with the practical.
“What’s going to be expected of me?” He tried to keep his voice composed and professional, but he couldn’t help the slight quiver in his tone.
Thankfully, Danny didn’t address it, just nodded seriously.
“Most days, not very much. I can’t say for sure yet, the High Chief might give more detailed orders now that we’re back, but this isn’t the first hostage he’s held in a similar position to you.” Danny’s expression darkened and Tim was pretty sure he felt a little curl of fury in his chest. Good to know.
“For the most part you won’t be permitted to leave these rooms without an escort, and unless he says otherwise you won’t be allowed to leave the keep at all. I have my own duties, but when I’m not attending to those, I will be available to accompany you wherever you’d like to go. The guards will all be briefed on who you are, so most likely the whole keep will know before nightfall, but unless you are actively going against the High Chief you are still a prince, and you will be treated as such. I cannot make guarantees, but anyone ranked below a general will be expected to treat you with respect, as my husband if nothing else.”
Danny fixed Tim with a very tired, but kind look.
“I think you will find many people here more sympathetic to your plight than you might think.”
Tim swallowed, nodding slowly. From the way the stable hands had been acting that didn’t surprise him, but he was glad to know the servants wouldn’t be immediately prejudiced against him for being part of an enemy kingdom. Although he couldn’t help but notice the gaps in what Danny was saying.
“And the other generals and those above them? The soldiers we rode here with?”
Danny winced.
“Those soldiers were the High Chief’s personal squadron. They’re… honestly, they’re fanatics, they’re loyal to Pariah Dark above all else, even above the welfare of the Infinite Lands, so they’re among his most trusted soldiers, for as much as he trusts anyone. Normal rules don’t apply to them, and they aren’t well liked at all by most of the staff in the keep. Luckily, they spend most of their time away on missions, they’ll most likely be sent off again in a day or two. You won’t have to see them.”
A coil of tension in Tim’s git loosened a little. Good. Even if he couldn’t understand what those men were saying, he wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. Not all the fear unwound though, as Tim watched Danny sigh, running a hand through his already messy white hair.
“As for the other generals and the rest of the High Chief’s council… it will depend. I- I can think of a few that would be sympathetic, but for the most part you should try and avoid them wherever you can. I’ll help you with that, and I’ll point them out when I get the chance so you can recognise them.”
Tim nodded slowly, taking this all in. He’d been expecting a lot worse.
“Thank you. And so, day to day I’m just to stay in these rooms?” That was gonna get boring fast, but hey, at least it wasn’t a dungeon. There was already a bookshelf, he could probably find a way to get more. And judging by the wards he would be left alone apart from Danny, who he already had no choice but to be vulnerable with.
Danny nodded.
“When I’m attending to duties, yeah. You should be able to spend your time in the library with a guard, but I think it’d be best to let things settle for a day or two before trying that. Obviously, I’ll bring whatever books you’d like if I can’t take you there myself. We should probably also start on helping you learn the Enduring Word…”
Danny trailed off, mumbling to himself as Tim frowned.
“Enduring Word?”
“Huh? Oh, that’s the official name of the language spoken in the Infinite Lands. Although, these days half the people you meet will call it ghost speech instead. That’s what the Justrian’s named it, and it kinda stuck, even here.” Danny shrugged
“Oh. Then yes, I would definitely like to learn that, if you’re willing to teach me.”
Danny waved him off, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.
“It’s no problem, it’s the least I can do. Besides, it’s pretty easy to pick up when you’re surrounded by it like this.” He waved his hand around the room as it to encapsulate the keep as a whole.
“As to the expectations of you, there will probably be a few things where you’re expected to accompany me. The High Chief will sometimes hold official meals that everyone in the keep is expected to attend, and it’s not the kind of invitation you can turn down. You’ll be seated right beside me though, so I should be able to help while you’re still finding your feet here. There might end up being some other things but that’s all I can think of right now, and anything that comes up, I’ll help you with.”
Tim couldn’t help being touched by the way Danny spoke, as if his helping Tim at every turn was just a given, something not even worth questioning because it was so obvious a path to take.
“Thank you.”
“It’s no problem.” Danny said as he rose to his feet, stretching. “For now, I’m going to run down to the kitchens and hope they have some food left for us. And let them know that there’ll be two of us eating here from now on.”
“Alright.” Tim said, not sure what to say as he watched Danny walk across the room to the door.
As he reached it, he hesitated for a moment, and glanced back at Tim.
“The wards are all in place, so I’ll know if anyone tries to come in, even if the door is locked.” Tim nodded and Danny mirrored the motion, his hand still resting on the doorknob. “Ok. I’ll be back soon.”
He slipped out the door and Tim heard the dull snick as it locked. He didn’t know right now if the sound was comforting or ominous. On the one hand, he was glad to have a locked door between him and an unfamiliar keep full of potentially hostile people. On the other, he got the sense he was going to get very familiar with the sound of that door locking him in.
He sighed, letting himself fall out of his proper posture to slump on the couch. He let himself sit there, taking just one moment to breathe. Then he forced himself to his feet and moved to explore the rest of the rooms. Best to get familiar with them.
Looking closer around the sitting room didn’t reveal much he hadn’t noticed at first glance. Most of the books on the shelf weren’t written in a language, or even an alphabet, that he recognised. Presumably they were all in ghost speak. Hopefully Danny was serious about helping him learn that, he couldn’t afford to be any more out of the loop than he already was, and he’d be able to learn so much faster with an actual teacher.
There wasn’t much on the table or the desk, although there were a number of desk drawers that Tim quietly decided to search through later, but the window above the desk made Tim pause.
The view was… it was incredible.
Here, several floors up in Pariah’s keep, Tim towered over the rest if the capital. He could see over the outer walls, over the city and out over the plain beyond them. He could see across the struggling scrubland, to a distant forest, all the way to the mountains that loomed over the valley, higher than any Tim had seen in Gotham.
The sun had sunk lower in the sky, sending shadows across the valley as it peered out from between two peaks, making the snow they were topped with shimmer and glow a brilliant orange.
He couldn’t see the path they had taken to arrive, couldn’t look towards his home, but he found himself arrested by the sight of the setting sun, quite literally painting the land in a different light, showing a side of it that he’d never seen before.
Not that that meant much, he reminded himself as he shook himself from his reverie. He’d only been here for a day.
He tore himself from the window and ducked through the doorway into the next room, glancing around to confirm that yes, this was the bedroom. He shivered a little at the sight of the one large bed but pushed it down. He was fine. He was almost certain that nothing would happen, so he was fine.
The rest of the room was similarly nondescript to the sitting room. Everything was good quality and well made, but practical rather than lavish. Not what he would have expected from an obviously high ranking general, but then nothing about Danny had matched his expectations so far. There were a few cupboards, a changing screen, a small washroom through another door. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Tim dithered for a moment, wondering if it would be worth rifling through the cupboards, but ultimately decided to return to the sitting room. A decision he was glad for when Danny stumbled in not three minutes later.
He looked exhausted, smiling weakly at Tim as he carefully locked to door again, briefly relit the outline of green around the door, and set the tray of food he was carrying on the table.
“Here we are. They didn’t have much variety left since they didn’t know we’d all be returning tonight, but the stew is warm and hearty, and I snagged us some bread. Just what you need after a long day’s ride.”
Tim couldn’t help but agree. His body was protesting being out in the elements all day, even with the additional layers he’d been given, and something warm and comforting sounded heavenly.
“Thank you,” he said, picking up his bowl and inhaling the steam deeply. He didn’t recognise the aroma, but it smelled spicy and savoury and wonderful, and when he took a bite, the flavours seemed to warm him from the inside.
“I’m glad it’s to your liking. I also swung past the library to get you a few English books to start off with, I know most of my bookshelf isn’t very beginner friendly in terms of learning the Word.” Danny said, dropping a bag onto the chair beside him with a yawn before tucking into his own bowl.
After Tim had made his way through at least half of his meal, Danny cleared his throat, looking a little awkward as Tim looked up at him.
“I was wondering… There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to. I have duties to attend to in the morning tomorrow, but I wondered if you would be comfortable if I invited her to visit us in the afternoon?”
Tim wasn’t sure what to make of that. In all honesty, the idea of meeting more potentially hostile strangers was not appealing in the least. But at the same time, isolating himself would do him no good, and if he was to make the allies that he would desperately need in order to navigate such an unfamiliar environment, then he had to start somewhere.
He couldn’t rely on Danny for everything, didn’t want to either, and even if she was associated with Danny, the ability to get a second opinion on what he was told would be invaluable. Plus, it would be useful to see if Danny would invite someone hostile into close proximity with Tim. Useful to see how far his promise of protection could be trusted.
He bowed his head a little at Danny.
“I would be honoured.”
“Good, good. I think she’ll be able to help you a lot. And then I’ll have to explain to both at once…” He trailed off distractedly, mumbling to himself as he gazed blearily into his stew.
By the time they both finished their meal Tim was feeling the weight of exhaustion weighing down on his as well. The comfort of a warm meal and a full stomach relaxing him enough for his body to remember how tired it was from a long and taxing day, both physically and emotionally.
Danny set his bowl down and rubbed at his eyes.
“It’s late, and it’s been a long day, we should get some sleep. Here, I’ll show you where everything is.”
Tim obediently followed him to the next room as if he had never strayed from the sitting room, Danny not pointing anything out he hadn’t already deduced apart from one cupboard apparently having space for Tim to store his own clothes once he visited the tailor.
For the moment, Danny dug out a pair of sleep clothes and handed them to Tim before glaring vaguely at the room’s only bed.
“I can sleep on the couch for now, it’s comfier than it looks. I’ll have to see if I can sneak another bed in here of something.” He said, yawning and frowning as he apparently tried to work out the logistics of a bed heist.
Tim bit his lip, looking critically at his husband.
Looking closely, Danny looked completely wrecked, and Tim recalled that he hadn’t slept at all last night, busy guarding the door so Tim could rest. He’d said he didn’t need as much sleep as a normal person, but judging by the deep bags under his eyes, two days of intense travel without a wink of sleep was pushing it.
The couches were comfortable, but they were also short, only able to seat two people side by side. Danny was tall enough that his legs would be hanging comically off the end if he tried to sleep out there.
“It’s a large bed.” Tim said, before he could talk himself out of it. Danny had been as furious as he was at the comments from the soldiers. Danny had been guilty the whole way through the ritual. Danny had been nothing but kind to him and was literally swaying with exhaustion right now. Tim was safe. Tim was almost certain he was safe, and trust had to start somewhere. “There’s space enough to share.”
Danny blinked slowly at him, then shook his head.
“No, no, I couldn’t possibly. I can just-” he gestured towards the sitting room and Tim dared to cut him off.
“Danny. You look dead on your feet. You need rest and you won’t get it trying to curl up on those tiny couches. There’s more than enough room for us to each keep to different sides. It’s fine.” He ignored to slight uptick in his pulse and the clamminess of his palms.
Danny squinted at him for a moment, although Tim thought he was probably just processing the sentence, rather than trying to assess Tim’s honesty, before he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“If you’re sure. I’ll try not to wake you in the morning. You deserve to sleep in even if I can’t.”
“Good,” Tim said with a nod, trying to project confidence he didn’t quite feel. He ducked behind the changing screen and put on his borrowed sleep clothes, listening to Danny shuffling around on the other side.
Once he was done, he switched places with Danny, finished getting himself ready and, with only a moment of hesitation, climbed under the covers, pulling them up to his chin and curling onto his side to face the wall.
Trying to ignore his stubbornly elevated breathing, he was uncomfortably aware of every sound in the quiet room as Danny stepped out from the changing screen and settled into his side of bed, the mattress shifting slightly with his weight.
“Goodnight,” murmured his husband from his side of the bed as he blew out the candle, letting darkness fill the room.
“Goodnight.” Tim whispered back, trying to force himself to relax.
Danny apparently really was as tired as he’d looked, because it felt like barely five minutes had passed before Danny’s breathing had evened out and Tim could tell that Danny had settled into sleep.
Slowly, Tim relaxed. The longer Danny stayed still, fast asleep and dead to the world, the more tension Tim was able to let go of. As the unwanted bolt of adrenaline left his system, his own exhaustion made itself known to him again. That, combined with the calming sound of Danny’s even breaths, let him gradually slip off into a peaceful sleep, his husband sleeping soundly next to him.
Notes:
Tim is starting to trust! Just the tiniest bit, but its happening! And we get some fun little bits of lore and worldbuilding, I'm enjoying just sprinkling them in as I go because I feel like I come up with more every chapter I write and I had a fair bit before I even started.
Also, I'm really excited to introduce the mystery guest, it'll be nice to get someone else for these boys to interact with. You can probably guess who, so look forward to that next chapter.
Chapter Text
Tim woke up the next morning to an empty bed.
He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands, letting out a long sigh. He was fine. He’d made it through another day.
Dragging himself out of bed, he saw a neat pile of clothing sitting on the small wooden chair next to the changing screen and took that as permission to wash up and change into them. They didn’t fit him perfectly, a little too long in places, but they were close enough that he could get himself fairly presentable.
He assessed himself in the mirror, trying to figure out how some of the pieces were supposed to be worn, and tried to ignore the sight of himself in such unfamiliar garments. It made him look far too much like an enemy. Which, he could admit would likely be a good thing in this situation, but it was still disquieting to see himself fitting in with his captors.
Shrugging off the discomfort, he turned and made his way into the sitting room, which he knew without looking was also empty. The landscape out the window was light enough that it must be well past the time the High Chief had set for the debrief, which explained where Danny had vanished to. He wasn’t sure how exactly to describe it, but he could feel that Danny was still in the keep. Could have pointed the direction he was in if he focussed. It was a strange sensation, and Tim wasn’t sure he liked the idea that it was reciprocal.
Waiting for him on the table was a plate of bread, cheese and fruits, and the bag Danny had brought back with him yesterday. Idly nibbling at the food, Tim sat and started looking through the bag. He furtively glanced at the door as he did so but turned his attention away again. It was undoubtedly locked, and even if it weren’t, it would be foolish to leave the one place he’d found safety to brave the dangers of the unexplored keep. He’d just have to try and get Danny to give him a tour sooner rather than later.
Inside the bag was a small stack of books that Tim set out in front of him on the table. One was a dictionary of English to Enduring Word. Looking inside the translations were written both phonetically in English letters, and in the strange alphabet he’d seen on the spines of Danny’s other books. It was apparently known as second script, and the book referred to the English alphabet as third script, although Tim wasn’t sure why. What was supposed to be the first script then?
The next book was a history, or maybe a biography? It was dated from before the start of the hundred-year war and the formation of the Justrian alliance. Apparently, a scholar from Centralia had visited the Infinite Lands and documented his experience, noting down what he found out about their history, culture and practices.
Tim couldn’t say how helpful that would be, being a hundred years out of date, and a hundred years of war at that. A lot of things changed in a period that turbulent. But still, he could acknowledge that it was a valuable resource, and likely to offer the best perspective he was going to get to help him navigate his own situation. It wasn’t like there would have been many visitors since then that he could read about.
The third was a much smaller book that Tim was pretty sure he’d seen on Danny’s bookshelf. Flipping through it revealed that it was illustrated, each of the seven chapters having an intricate drawing of a figure taking up one page. Each were clearly mystical, with some being surrounded by snow, or plants, or stars. One had purple robes and a deadly looking scythe, another had four arms cradling an intricate box.
Unfortunately, all of it was written in second script, so Tim had no clue what the book was about. The illustrations were beautiful though.
Sighing, he settled himself into the corner of the couch with the biography. As much as he needed to start figuring out ghost speech, he wasn’t going to be able to get much done with just a dictionary in a few hours. Better to wait until Danny was back and could give him some pointers on pronunciation and grammar and the like.
The biography actually ended up being much more engaging than Tim had expected. The normal dryness he expected from this kind of text was offset by the fantastical nature of what was being described. And the author actually seemed to be a decent guy, which was always a rare treat.
Tim didn’t even notice how much time had passed until he heard a key rattle in the lock and sprung to his feet, looking warily at the door.
The knob turned and Danny stepped in, a satchel hung over his shoulder, offering Tim a smile as he closed the door behind him.
Tim relaxed minutely. It was just Danny.
“Hello, did you sleep well? I tried not to wake you up when I left, I thought you could use the rest.” He noticed the book in Tim’s hand. “Oh nice, you found those. That’s a good one to start on, we don’t have many third script texts, and even less that are about the Infinite Lands.”
Tim nodded, sitting back down in his seat.
“I slept very well, thank you. And thank you for finding these for me, I really appreciate it.”
Danny waved a hand airily, taking the seat across from him and rummaging around in his satchel.
“It’s no stress, really, it’s the least I can do. Speaking off, I stopped by the library to have a look for a few more that I thought might be helpful to you.” He piled up another small stack of books on the table between them.
“First, this is a book of folk tales that was designed to help people, mostly children, learn third script. So, each of the stories is written in second script on one page, and third script on the other. The stories are pretty short and written very simply, so with the dictionary you should be able to figure some of them out pretty easily. Plus learning the stories will be helpful culturally, like the book of Ancients I left for you.”
He gestured at the small, illustrated book Tim had looked at that morning.
“Second, I managed to find a third script book talking about some native ecology. It’s not completely accurate, and things have changed a fair bit since it was written, but it would still be worthwhile to get a sense of how they were before. Plus, there really aren’t very many third script books in the library.”
Tim tilted his head, confused.
“But you speak English so well? And all the other soldiers seemed to as well? I got the impression it was a fairly common second language.” He also wondered how the countries entire ecology could have changed that much, but who knew maybe it was just a really old book.
Danny tilted his head and made a so-so gesture with one hand.
“It is. A lot of people, especially near the border and in the capital, can speak English, pretty fluently in a lot of cases. But it’s much less common for people to be able to read and write in third script. There just isn’t the same need, or practical use for it. Plus, there’s some… kind of religious implications with the different alphabets? So, some more hard-core people will look down on third script and refuse to learn it. It’s all a bit of a mess to be honest. Even without the whole war aspect.”
Tim desperately wanted to ask more about that, but Danny pulled himself out of the tangent, shaking his head, and moved on to the next book.
“Anyways, I also grabbed you this one. It will probably be a while before you’re able to read it, but I wanted to grab it now, so I don’t forget. It’s a really good, comprehensive reference for a lot of stuff. I also,” he pulled out two much smaller books with blank leatherbound covers, “-found you a few notebooks. I figured it would be handy for working out some of the translations, or if you just wanted to keep a journal or something… I won’t look at them, I made sure they look different to the ones I use.”
He gestured over at his desk. “There’s plenty of quills, ink and pencils in the drawers, feel free to use whatever you like.”
Tim was a little stunned at how much Danny was already offering him, the amount of thought he’d put in before Tim had even had the chance to think about what he might need.
“Thank you, Danny. Truly. I really appreciate the effort you’ve gone to here.”
Danny blushed ever so slightly, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s nothing, really. I just don’t want you to be bored while I have to attend to my duties. But! I’m done with them for today, so if you’d like I can start teaching you some ghost speech, or answering any questions you had so far.”
Tim nodded, smiling a little at the enthusiasm.
“Some language lessons would be really nice. I didn’t want to start trying to look through the dictionary until I had at least a vague idea how to pronounce the words.”
Danny nodded sagely, moving to the desk to grab something to write with.
“Good idea, some of the phonetic spellings are a little weird, and there’s a few sounds you wouldn’t be used to. Here-”
Danny started going through the different sounds, and the letters that represented them in both second and third script, writing Tim out a list and making sure he had a handle on each one before moving on. He also covered a few basic words, phrases and bits of unusual grammar, seemingly filling each silent moment with whatever relevant trivia crossed his mind.
It wasn’t exactly a structured lesson, but Tim was learning a lot, not just about the new language, but also about Danny. Behind closed doors he was enthusiastic, sincere and a bit of a dork. The intimidating stoicism he’d shown while they were riding was nowhere to be seen, which was something of a welcome relief.
Eventually, Danny ducked into the other room to get changed and freshen up, leaving Tim to start organising and consolidating the notes they’d both made.
As he was leafing through the pages, the door to the hallway suddenly banged open, and a tall woman with bright red hair stepped through, already speaking.
“Danny! What the hell is happening?! First you disappear with no warning and now-” She cut herself off, staring at where Tim was clutching the notebook and looking back at her with wide eyes.
The dark-skinned girl who had been following the shouting lady also stopped and stared at Tim, although her gaze was a lot more suspicious than shocked.
“I- I’m so sorry, that was terribly rude of me.” The red-haired woman recovered first, hiding her shock and giving a small bow in Tim’s direction. “I’m afraid my brother did not inform me he would have company. I beg your pardon for my outburst.”
Oh, so the visitor Danny had mentioned was his sister.
Danny’s sister. Who did not know about Tim, Danny’s new husband. And was apparently already upset about Danny leaving unexpectedly.
Oh dear. This was going to be interesting.
Trying to keep the dread and realisation from his face, Tim fell back on manners. He smiled politely at the two of them, arranging his hands in his lap to hide that they were shaking from the shock of shouting strangers bursting into the room.
“Thank you, but no apology is necessary, I assure you. I quite understand.”
“I appreciate that.” The woman gave him a thin smile, that did not reach her eyes, which were still full of suspicion even if her tone was polite.
Luckily, Tim was saved from trying to figure out how to continue the conversation, by Danny, finally, bursting into the room, looking overjoyed to see the two women.
“Sister, you’re early!” Tim saw the moment Danny registered the expression on his sister’s face because he blanched, dropping back a step.
“Yes. I am. And it seems there are a few things you have neglected to inform me of, Da- brother.”
Tim pretended not to notice the pointed look she gave him as she spoke. Danny cringed, shrinking into himself and avoiding eye contact.
“Right, yes.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Well first, I should say that everyone in this room already has my true name.”
Tim had already guessed as much when the first woman had said it so openly in front of the other, not to mention the fact that I would be weirder for his sister not to have his true name, but it was nice to have it spelled out. He really didn’t want to mess it up.
The women seemed much more surprised by the news and had narrowed their eyes, flicking their gaze between Tim and Danny, both of whom were studiously avoiding eye-contact.
“Danny, don’t you think you should introduce us?” Said the first woman, a warning clear in her tone. Definitely an older sister then, Tim would recognise that voice anywhere. He did not envy Danny right now, who looked like he was wishing the floor would swallow him so that he wouldn’t have to give the answer Tim knew he was going to give.
Hell, Tim could relate. He wished he didn’t have to be here either. This lady was terrifying, and she wasn’t even glaring at him yet.
“Of course. Uhh, Prince, this is my sister Olive, and her attendant Red.” He gestured at the two women in turn and then, visibly bracing for their reaction, he gestured at Tim. “Olive, Red, this is Prince… my husband.”
There was a long moment of silence where no one reacted. Tim kept his eyes down and fervently wished to be anywhere but here as he braced for the response. He could pick up the same feeling coming from Danny.
“Your WHAT?”
Oh no, now Olive was glaring at him, fury practically wafting off both her and Red who was glaring from behind her. Tim flinched, shrinking back from the intensity. Oh god, he knew this wasn’t going to go well.
“Hey!” Danny stepped forward to put himself between Tim and the two women. “Stop looking at him like that, it wasn’t his idea. He had even less say in this than I did.”
That seemed to give the two of them pause, an edge of concern entering into Olive’s face. Red glanced between everyone’s faces and then took a step back, towards the door, offering a small bow to the siblings.
“I’ll wait outside while you discuss this. I don’t think this is a conversation you want interrupted.”
Danny nodded at her, his expression softening.
“Thank you, Red.”
She nodded curtly and stepped outside, the door clicking softly behind her, leaving the three of them alone. After a moment, Olive spoke, her voice lacking the harshness it had previously.
“What do you mean, Danny?”
Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing at Tim, a question in his eyes. Tim, not sure what else to do, nodded. It wasn’t like his circumstances where a secret, the entire party of soldiers had seen everything, and he doubted they’d keep quiet about it.
Heavily, Danny sunk down onto the couch next to Tim, looking at his sister wearily, like the weight of the last few days had hit him again.
“You wanted to know where I went so suddenly, right.?”
Olive lowered herself onto the chair opposite, her brow pinched.
“I did.”
Danny nodded absently. His eyes rested on his hands where they were clasped between his knees as he began speaking.
“The day before we left, the High Chief called a meeting to discuss the next move in the war. He said that he had a new plan to keep the alliance out of the way for a while.”
Tim gritted his teeth at the description, at the idea that everything Pariah was putting him through was just a petty distraction, but he held his tongue. He knew there was more going on than what he had been privy to, and he needed to hear Danny’s side of this to get a handle on it.
Danny gestured at Tim, his eyes still down, voice still dull as he recited the events that had taken place, as if he couldn’t stand to think too hard about them.
“My husband is the third Prince of Gotham. The High Chief had us wed in order to seal the treaty. We held the ritual before we even left the border.”
Olive looked horrified and incensed as she listened to her brother. Her voice was a hiss when she spoke, incredulous and furious all in one.
“And the king agreed to that?!”
Tim snapped his head up and cut into the conversation before he could think about it.
“He had no choice!” He glared at Olive, who was looking shocked at his outburst.
How dare she try to pin this on Bruce, how dare she. “The high chief had a sword to my throat the entire time. If my father didn’t agree he would have killed me then and there and then moved on to the rest of my family. There was nothing he could do!”
Tim clenched his jaw as he glared, refusing to let it quiver as he felt tears starting to build.
“It’s true.” Danny spoke up quietly, glancing at Tim with concern before focussing back on Olive. “You know how the High Chief does things, sister.”
Olive kept staring at him, something profoundly sad and horrified in her expression, for another moment, before her gaze dropped to her lap and she bit her lip, looking both ashamed and haunted.
“I- You’re right. I apologise, Prince. I spoke without thinking.”
Tim didn’t let the tension leave him, but he looked away, blinking the tears out of his eyes and refusing to linger on her expression. He still resented the implication and hated that she’d returned every awful emotion he felt to the front of his mind, but now wasn’t the time to hold grudges. And by the sounds of it she had her own experiences with the High Chief’s tactics.
“I accept your apology.” He said, as levelly as he could manage. He saw Danny giving him another concerned glance, probably feeling how upset the accusation had made him, but thankfully Olive kept the conversation moving forward.
“But Danny, what I don’t understand is why the High Chief had you take part in the marriage?”
There was something that Tim had also been wondering. He hadn’t had much experience with any of Pariah’s other generals, but surely there were others who would have been more than happy to take custody of an enemy prince like this.
Not that Tim was objecting. No, he was thanking every god he could name that he hadn’t ended up with someone like that, but Olive was right that it made no sense for Pariah to tether Tim to the one guy that apparently wanted nothing to do with the arrangement.
Danny sighed deeply, running both his hands through his hair and leaving them to rest on the back of his neck. He looked so very tired in that moment, like it had been years, and the weariness had sunk into his bones.
“In the meeting, before he was set to leave…” Danny sighed again. “I spoke out against the plan.”
“Danny…” Olive sounded heartbreakingly understanding.
“I know.” Danny held up his hands. “I know, ok? But the way he was talking, it was just like… I couldn’t just sit there, I couldn’t just do nothing. I spoke up and said I didn’t agree with what he was doing.” Danny sounded almost desperate as he explained himself, and it hurt something in Tim’s heart to see the way that energy fled him and he slumped as he continued, his voice weary.
“He said if I dared to speak against him on this plan, then he would make me complicit in it. Make me play a part so that I was just as responsible as he was.”
“Danny…” Olive leaned forward, trying to catch her brother’s eye. “You know that isn’t true, right? You aren’t responsible for what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I think he knew about Elle.” Danny didn’t acknowledge what Olive had said, and from the way Olive’s lips pursed she wasn’t happy about it. She allowed the topic change though.
“What do you mean?”
“He made a comment. I don’t think he knows anything for sure, but I think he suspects it was me. He probably was looking for an excuse to punish me regardless of what I said.”
Tim was starting to lose the thread of the conversation, but this was lining up with what he already knew and suspected. Namely that Danny didn’t want to do this and that Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Not that the second one was really news.
He still felt like he was missing some piece of the puzzle though. Pariah had made Danny participate in a plan that went against his personal morals, as punishment for speaking out, and possibly something else? That made sense, and was awful to think about, but it wasn’t what he would have expected from a punishment from someone as ruthless as Pariah Dark. Especially since, if Danny hadn’t been as kind as he was, then being gifted a husband probably wouldn’t have been considered a punishment. Tim just couldn’t help feeling there was more to this that he wasn’t privy to.
Danny seemed to remember how little Tim knew and glanced at him apologetically.
“Sorry. The whole thing with Elle is a very long story. Suffice it to say I did something the High Chief was furious about, but since he didn’t have proof that it was me, he used the next time I messed up as an excuse to punish me for both. I’m really sorry you got involved in it.”
Tim gave him a smile that was probably still quite shaky.
“By the sounds of things this would have happened to me regardless. And honestly, I’d prefer a husband who wasn’t on board with the idea.” His smile wobbled and fell from his face by the end of the sentence, and he wrapped his arms around himself, glancing away from Danny to see that Olive was gazing at him consideringly.
He met her stare head on, and she seemed to shake herself out of it.
“Danny, why don’t you give me and Prince a moment alone?”
“Huh? Why?” Danny looked surprised and confused but not concerned. Unlike Tim, who was desperately looking through everything he’d said and done since she arrived to try and figure out if he was about to face a shovel talk, commiserations or death threats.
“There’s just a few things I want to talk to him about. You can wait in the next room.” Danny frowned, studying her, but apparently found her expression just as inscrutable as Tim did because he just sighed and turned to look at Tim.
“Is that alright with you? You don’t have to, she can be kinda bossy.”
Tim glanced again at Olive. It was sweet of Danny to offer, but Tim got the sense this would be happening eventually no matter what he said. Better to get it over with.
“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”
Danny nodded and got up to head into the bedroom.
“Alright, come grab me when you’re done then.”
“And no listening at the door!” Olive called after him.
“I wasn’t going to!” Danny protested, before shutting the door with a pointed click, leaving Tim and Olive alone.
Notes:
Jazz!!! My girl, she's here! And Val but she doesn't have much to say yet.
I originally wasn't sure what chosen name to give Jazz bc I remember reading Married to Winter (corkinavoid) and seeing her use Olive and being like huh? Thats such a weird choice. But then I was doing some research to find a name and saw that jasmine is technically part of the olive family and was like ohhhhh, it all makes sense now.
Anyway, Tim is starting to get some answers, I get to include a little worldbuilding (I swear I have pages for every paragraph that makes it in) and now I have a fun new character to bounce the boys off of, which I am very excited for Even if most of this fic is going to be Tim and Danny, I feel like I get to show different sides to the characters than when they only talk to one other person.
Next up, Tim and Jazz have a little chat >:)
Chapter 7
Notes:
Alright, let's see just what Jazz wants to talk about!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tim tried not to fidget nervously under Olive’s steady gaze. He felt like she was staring straight into the depths of his soul, her eyes piercing for all that they lacked the glow of her brother’s.
“Danny isn’t going to hurt you.”
“What?” Tim looked up, startled by the non-sequitur, and saw that Olive’s face had softened. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face with a huff and offered him a tired smile.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She held out her hand to Tim. “My chosen name is Olive, but you can call me Jazz. If Danny already considers you his clan, then that makes you mine as well.”
Tim shook her hand, a little warily. This seemed like a pretty quick turnaround, but it wouldn’t hurt him to be polite in turn.
“I’m Tim. It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiled again, sincere but so very sad.
“You as well. Although I wish it could have been under better circumstances.” Tim looked away and she sighed. “I’m sorry for how I was acting earlier. Danny had to leave so suddenly that he couldn’t tell me anything and I was worried about him. But I should have trusted his judgement and heard him out before taking it out on you. That wasn’t fair of me, and I apologise.”
What was with these people and their shockingly sincere apologies catching him completely off guard? This was not what he’d been expecting to get out of this conversation.
He glanced at her face again, suspicious, but couldn’t detect any hint of malice or subterfuge in her expression. She really seemed to mean what she was saying, which was almost more unnerving than when she was angry at him.
“Thank you, Jazz. I appreciate you saying that.”
She nodded and the conversation lapsed for a long moment, each of them studying the other. Eventually she sat forward leaning her elbows on her knees and looking at him solemnly.
“I know you have no reason to believe us about this, but Danny really won’t hurt you. I promise. He’s more likely to get himself in trouble trying to protect you than he is to let anything happen to you that he could prevent.”
Tim narrowed his eyes at her and sat back against the back of the couch. Sure, he had almost already convinced himself that Danny wasn’t an immediate threat, but there was a pretty big line between that and what Jazz was suggesting.
“He’s barely known me two days.” He pointed out, and Jazz smiled ruefully, shaking her head.
“Doesn’t matter. Danny’s… let’s say he’s got a somewhat inflated sense of responsibility. I don’t know exactly what went down while he was away, but I know for a fact that Danny didn’t have a choice in this because I know him well enough to say that he would never do this to someone voluntarily. And I know enough about the High Chief to know this is the exact kind of fucked up game he’d go for.”
Tim was a little shocked at the intensity of the hatred that came through when she talked about Pariah. This was her ruler, the High Chief of the keep they sat in. He’d seen signs that he was feared within his country but to have his name practically spat? Just like Danny, this was starting to cross over from anger to full on lese majeste.
“But even so,” Jazz continued with a sigh, “Danny’s still going to carry the weight and responsibility with him, even if it wasn’t his fault. And because my brother is selfless to a fault, that means he’s going to do everything he can to keep you safe here.” She met his eyes, speaking intently as if willing him to understand. “You might not know him well yet, but he’s a good person. He’d never dream of hurting you. In any way.”
Tim crossed his arms, feeling uncomfortable at the intensity with which she was insisting, like she could read every one of the fears he’d been shoving down just by looking at him and was trying to comprehensively pick them apart.
“Why should I believe you?” He probably shouldn’t have spoken so bluntly but being reminded of everything he’d been trying desperately not to think about left him feeling raw and flayed open. Jazz just kept looking at him with kindness in her eyes.
“I don’t expect you to, not yet. We’ve only just met, and you have no reason to trust me. You’ll find out I’m telling the truth soon enough, but I wanted to reassure you.” Her gaze turned heavy, and Tim had to look away. “I can relate to your situation more than most, but I still can’t imagine everything you must be fearing right now. And for some of it you’re right to be afraid. This is not a safe place, and I’m sorry you’ve been trapped here with the rest of us. But I promise you that Danny is not one of those dangers. And if you ever think he is,” she grinned, startling him, “Then you just tell me, and I’ll kick his ass into line. Whatever else he may be, he’s still my little brother and I’ll always be happy to tear into him until he cleans up his act.”
Tim couldn’t help snorting at that, reminded far too much of Babs’ expression whenever someone was foolish enough to put themselves on her shit-list. In this much at least, he couldn’t help believing Jazz completely.
“Thanks,” he said, meeting her smile with one of his own, which only caused hers to widen. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
“Please,” She waved a hand airily, her grin definitely shifted into a smirk at this point. “It’s a pleasure really.”
Tim huffed another laugh, shaking his head, some of the tension he’d been carrying leaching from him.
“So, Tim,” Jazz started, head tilted a little to the side. “Has Danny showed you the library yet?”
Tim shook his head. “He’s brought me several books from it for while he’s busy with his duties, but I haven’t seen it myself yet. Apparently, there aren’t many books there in a language I could read, although Danny has started to help me learn the Enduring Word.”
“Well at least he’s doing that much right. But honestly, how could he not show it to you yet?” Jazz shook her head, looking thoroughly disappointed.
“I mean, we have been here for less than a day.” Tim felt the need to point out, but Jazz just waved a hand.
“That’s no excuse.” Tim had to raise an eyebrow incredulously at that. “If he’s too busy with his duties to show you the important things then you can come with me, I spend a lot of time there. I can help you with the Enduring Word as well.” Tim felt touched by the offer, the way it was given as if it was just a matter of course.
“I’d appreciate that.” He said, smiling at Jazz, who smiled back before clapping her hands.
“Well, we can probably let my poor brother back in now, he’s probably been fretting about what terrible things I’ve been saying to you.” She rose to move towards the bedroom door, but Tim suddenly remembered something that had stuck him earlier.
“Wait, Jazz-” She paused and turned back to him, and he swallowed, not sure how to ask. “Earlier, you said something about- about being able to relate to my situation. What did you mean by that?”
Her expression dimmed and he bit his lip, worried he had upset her, but when she met his eyes again, she didn’t look angry, just melancholy and deeply weary, but still kind.
“It’s not entirely my story to tell. You can ask Danny about if you want, but.” She looked away with a sigh, before glancing back with a tight smile. “Let’s just say I don’t have much more freedom in this keep than you do.”
Tim wanted to ask more, but he could see that this was difficult for her to talk about, and honestly, he was a little afraid of the answers he might get, so he simply nodded, matching her sombre expression.
She turned back towards the door and seemed to take a moment to pick her shoulders up from where they’d slumped before she swung open the door to the bedroom and sauntered back to the couch calling cheerfully over her shoulder.
“You can come out now Danny, I’ve finished telling Tim all your embarrassing secrets!”
Danny stepped out, scowling good-naturedly at Jazz.
“Now I know you’re lying, there’s no way you got through all of them that quickly.” He took his seat next to Tim and shot him a glance, looking concerned, as if checking that Tim really was fine after the conversation. Tim gave him a reassuring smile in return and Danny’s shoulders relaxed. A glance at Jazz saw that she had not missed the exchange, even if she apparently saw fit to let it pass without comment.
“I can cover the highlights.” She said, waving a hand. “Anyway Danny, your husband’s a good one, I like him.”
As Tim tried to figure out how he’d managed that in the short conversation, she pointed threateningly at Danny. “You’d better bring him to visit me, clearly you can’t be trusted to teach him the important things. He said you haven’t even taken him to the library yet!”
“We’ve been here for less than a day!” Danny protested, unwittingly echoing Tim.
“That’s no excuse!” Jazz said and Tim couldn’t help snickering. Jazz was grinning widely and Danny looked thoroughly confused, but his eyes were soft when they met Tim’s. He gave an exaggerated sigh as he turned back to Jazz.
“Alright, alright, you win. You two can hang out in the library and conspire against me while I’m stuck in meetings. Honestly, Jazz you’d probably be more help teaching him the Enduring Word than I would, I always have trouble trying to explain it.”
“That’s because you cheat.” Jazz said with the air of one having this argument for the hundredth time. Danny just scoffed, crossing his arms.
Tim’s brow furrowed and he had to ask, “How can you cheat at knowing a language?”
“It’s complicated,” Danny said with a grimace, at the exact same time that Jazz said “Magic,” in a completely deadpan voice. The two siblings glared at each other.
“It’s not magic.” Danny said. Jazz rolled her eyes.
“It’s not!” Danny insisted as they both continued to glare.
“I’m so confused.” Admitted Tim when they didn’t show any signs of stopping, and Danny crossed him arms and raised his eyebrows pointedly until Jazz finally broke the stare-off with a scoff.
“Ok fine!” She looked at Tim. “So, maybe it actually is kind of complicated. And-” She glanced out the window at the sun, “-it’s probably a longer story than we have time for today. I can’t stay much longer.”
She stood up and both Tim and Danny stood with her, Danny moving to wrap her in a tight hug, the two of them pretty much of a height with each other. They murmured something to each other and Tim looked away, politely tuning out what they were saying. Eventually Danny let go and Jazz moved to stand in front of Tim. She smiled at him kindly again and held out her arms invitingly. Tim hesitated for a moment, before stepping into the hug.
He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed it until Jazz wrapped her arms around him and he found himself almost clutching her in return. He didn’t know her well, but she’d been kind to him, and for a moment, wrapped up like this, he could pretend he was safe. That he was home and Dick or Cass or Steph was holding him close.
He forced himself to step back before he could do something stupid like burst into tears, and Jazz thankfully didn’t comment, her gaze full of compassion. She offered her hand instead.
“It was lovely to meet you, Tim. I look forward to being able to get to know you better.”
Tim shook her hand with a smile, happy to have a familiar ritual to fall back on.
“You as well, Jazz. I will be sure to keep your offer in mind.”
Jazz grinned wickedly as she let go of his hand. She crossed the room towards the door, clapping Danny on the shoulder in passing.
“Be good to him Danny, or I’ll kick your shins in.”
“What-” Danny started, but Jazz had already stepped outside, the heavy door clicking shut behind her. Danny turned to look at him, confusion clear on his face.
“How on earth did you get her to go from glaring at you, to giving you her true name threatening me on your behalf in less than ten minutes?”
Tim shook his head. “I have no idea.”
Danny huffed a laugh, flopping down onto the couch.
“Yeah, that makes sense for her honestly.” He smiled up at Tim, an open, easy kind of smile that Tim hadn’t seen from him yet. It makes his breath catch in his throat. “I’m glad you’re getting along though, I was worried when she was so angry at the start.”
Tim sat more carefully, choosing the take the seat opposite from Danny this time.
“I mean, from the sounds of it I can understand why she was upset.”
“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “So can I. Normally I barely leave the capital and then suddenly I’m off on a mission to the border? I can’t blame her for being freaked.”
Tim tilted his head, curious.
“You really left that suddenly? That you couldn’t even let her know?” Danny grimaced.
“Yes and no. We did leave suddenly, that meeting was first thing in the morning and we were gone just after midday. But still, if it was anyone else I could have stopped by for just five minutes, except… Danny sighed again, looking weary.
“I don’t know how much Jazz told you, but she has a lot of the same restrictions around the keep that you do. She mostly splits her time between her rooms and the library with Red or another guard. But in addition to that, Jazz and I aren’t able to see each other as freely as we’d like. Part of why she was so freaked when she arrived is because she knows it’s bad news if we have to meet in my rooms, because it’s too risky to do it often, but mine are the only ones with anti-surveillance wards.”
“You can’t cast them in Jazz’s room for her?” Tim asked. He didn’t fully understand the situation Danny was painting, but he knew he didn’t like it. Jazz hadn’t been kidding that she could understand his situation.
“No,” Danny shook his head. “It’s expected that anyone capable would make those wards in their own rooms, but putting them in someone else’s is a big no-no. It would be fine, because Jazz is my clan, I would be doing it at her request, but the High Chief forbade it. He made it clear that if I put wards in someone else’s rooms, that he and his people would use that as an excuse to put wards everywhere, including mine and Jazz’s rooms, making her not just unprotected, but actively observed.”
He shrugged, going for casual and missing by a mile.
“So, our hands are tied. My rooms are warded but we can’t meet here too often. Anywhere else we can meet more freely, but we have to watch what we say. That goes for you as well now. Outside of here, you can never know who might be watching or scrying, so it’s safest to assume anything you say can and will reach The High Chief’s ears.”
Well, that was horrifying. He really wished he could be more surprised, but at this point that seemed pretty in line with what he’d heard about Pariah.
“If you and Jazz can’t see each other very often, why would she invite me to the library? Surely that wouldn’t be allowed if she can’t even visit here for an hour.”
Danny gave him a rueful grin.
“I’m not allowed to spend too much time with her. The High Chief hasn’t given you any such order and we tend to operate by asking for forgiveness instead of permission.”
Tim gave him an unimpressed look, but he just shrugged, unrepentant. “It’s a risk, and it might not last long, but it’s better than being too scared to try anything. We’ve had a lot of practice at this point, I promise. We know how to not push too far.”
Tim sighed, running a hand over his face, and matched Danny’s grin with a small smile of his own.
“Alright, I suppose library hangouts are going ahead until proven otherwise.”
Danny slumped back in his seat dramatically. “Oh, thank god, I think Jazz might have killed me if I didn’t keep my word.”
Tim huffed a laugh at his husband’s antics and Danny smile softened, gazing at him gently.
Tim wanted to fidget a little under the attention but gave a small smile back. He didn’t trust Danny yet. He liked Jazz, he was even pretty sure she had been honest with him, and he desperately wanted to believe her. To have one little part of this nightmare that he could truly rely on, to feel safe with. But Danny was her brother, she would want to see the best in him, and she freely admitted she didn’t know everything he did.
He liked Jazz and, as much as it pained him to admit it, he liked Danny as well. Even after only a few days, the man had been kind to him. Had done what he could, had tried to make this situation better, hadn’t done any of the awful things Tim had been afraid of. He believed them both when they said Danny didn’t want to hurt him.
But people would do a lot of things they didn’t want to when backed into a corner. And with Danny’s sister a prisoner here there were a lot of ways Danny could be pressured.
Tim hadn’t lived with the Drakes and with Bruce without learning to see the worst in people. That was the kind of paranoia that would keep him alive here. He wanted to trust Danny. Wanted so desperately. But to do that and then be stabbed in the back by the one person who swore to keep him safe in his horrifying new life? It would destroy him.
So, for now he would wait. He would watch and smile and play nice. Waiting to see if Danny would put his money where his mouth was. Waiting to see what he would do when Tim needed him. Waiting to see what happened when Pariah had time to bother with them again.
But until then, until Danny either earned his trust or finally betrayed him, Tim smiled at his husband. Letting the easy conversation wash over him.
He would wait. And maybe, just maybe, Tim wouldn’t have to face this alone.
Notes:
Tim! Gets! A! Hug! and my god does he need it.
I had fun with Jazz, I feel like she's a really observant character and would be able to notice things about Tim that Danny might not, once she's no longer panicking. Plus, Tim just really needs a friend/sister (in-law) to talk to right now, someone who isn't quite as... complicated as Danny currently is.
I hope you guys enjoyed the hints I'm dropping, Tim is gradually figuring out just what the hell is happening here, and I'm so excited to share :)
Chapter Text
The next few days passed by uneventfully. Almost peacefully if Tim was being honest.
Him and Danny slept in the same bed each night, and each night Tim braced himself a little less before going to bed as nothing continued to happen.
He so far spent a portion of each day with Jazz in the library, more or less depending on how many unspecified duties Danny had to do.
The library itself was beautiful, shelves stretching high above their heads, carved from a rich dark wood, with ladders on polished brass rails sliding across them. The spines were beautiful, an array of colours and materials, some with gleaming gold highlights illuminating the titles. Some were in mint condition, others obviously well used and well loved.
It did lose some points from the fact that Tim couldn’t read almost all the books, but he could acknowledge that that was hardly the books’ fault.
The librarian was a cranky, black-haired man. He had the same glowing green eyes that Tim was starting to get used to now, although not nearly as bright as Danny’s, and a long goatee curling from his chin. He was constantly scribbling on something, and glared at everyone who came in, but he never tried to stop Jazz when she dragged him all over the room grabbing books, so Tim didn’t think he was too bad.
Tim had to admit, the first day he’d spent in the library, he’d almost burst into tears. Settling down into comfortable armchairs, the smell of paper in the air, the gentle sunlight slanting in from the window, it was all too much like the long afternoons he used to spend with Jason back in Gotham.
Him and Jason hadn’t gotten off on the best foot.
Tim had always admired him, even before they’d ever met. He remembered the buzz when Jason had first been adopted, both from the scandalised upper class, and from the excited whispers he’d heard from the servants. His parents had forbidden him from speaking to the boy, so he’d only seen him from across the room at the few balls they both attended. But if he was careful, and asked the right questions innocently enough, he could get some of the maids to tell him the constantly replenishing stories about the second prince’s latest endeavour. The way him and the king were truly making a difference for the common people.
And then he’d died. Had fallen in an attack from Pariah Dark. Hid body never found, assumed to have been one of the corpses charred beyond recognition from the cursed flames. He’d been given a hero’s burial
They’d manage to turn back that attack, but Tim had mourned along with the entire kingdom that day, for the kind boy he never got to know.
Years later, when he miraculously returned to Gotham, Tim was too thrilled he’d survived to even hold a grudge over a few bumps and bruises. A broken arm. A minor stab wound. The healers had fixed him right up anyway.
But cursed rage tended to put a dampener on sibling bonding, to put it delicately, so things had been tense between them for a long time.
But then one day Tim had needed to do some research for a project and had headed to the library only to find Jason, curled into one of the couches, a pile of books stacked on the table beside him, and looking more peaceful than Tim had seen him since he returned.
Tim had hesitated but eventually brought his books over to the chair across from Jason.
Jason had glared at him, but there was barely any force behind it, and he’d settled back to his book without comment. The two of them had passed a comfortable afternoon together, and Jason didn’t insult him even once by the time they were eventually called to dinner.
Over time, as Tim kept joining Jason, each time convinced that this would be the day Jason ran out of patience and snapped at him, Jason stopped glaring at him so much. His insults carried less bite. Until eventually Jason had started seeking him out as well. Until those quiet afternoons were more a much-needed respite for Tim, instead of the only way he could spend time with Jason.
There was more to it than that, obviously. Conversations that needed to be had and apologies that needed to be made, but Tim couldn’t help holding those quiet library afternoons as the thing that really settled Jason as his brother.
And now they were gone.
Who would Jason spend that time with now? Would he read alone, constantly aware of the empty chair opposite him? Would he take his books to a different corner, find a new routine? Would sunny afternoons in his favourite room only remind him of the brother he’d lost?
So yeah, emotions had been running high the first time he visited the library, and every time after if he was being honest. He’d managed to hide the mini breakdown from Jazz, and every time since the library had evoked not crushing, but bittersweet grief. It made him feel like he was closer to Jason, even while it reminded him of everything that had been taken from him.
Regardless of the feelings he had about the room itself, he enjoyed spending time with Jazz. She was kind and passionate and a really good teacher. She’d apparently taken needing to teach him an entire language including a new alphabet as a personal challenge and had made up all kinds of exercises for him to do.
It was very different to Danny’s teaching style. When he didn’t have duties, Danny would offer to take Tim on tours of the keep, making sure he could find his way around. Tim was cautious, not wanting to run into anyone, but Danny was good at avoiding notice and it had been very useful. Tim had a rudimentary map he had sketched, showing all the most important places, both to know and to avoid, and the general shape of the keep.
Danny had also promised to start showing him the servants’ corridors soon, and Tim knew from his own experience in a castle that that was the really important knowledge.
But as they wandered, or as they whiled away time in their room talking or reading, Danny would occasionally slip into ghost speech, whether for a single word or a whole sentence.
He hadn’t been lying when he said that he struggled to explain the Enduring Word. Any discussion on the actual intricacies of the grammar left both of them frustrated and confused. Occasionally when Tim would ask for a definition Danny would just shrug and say “you know. It’s like-” and then use the word in a sentence did not clarify anything. Or offer a synonym, also in ghost speech. It made Tim want to tear his hair out, but Danny clearly had never had to learn the language the way Tim was or really think about how it was put together.
So rather than frustrate them both needlessly, Danny mostly taught Tim with conversation. The actual situations where you would use a word or phrase. Naming various things that they saw as they walked. Various slang terms and how to use them.
He was the one who was teaching Tim swear words, so Tim was inclined to consider him his favourite teacher, even if Jazz was objectively more effective.
Between the two of them, he was making shocking progress. Obviously, he couldn’t learn that much in only a few days, but his mental list of vocabulary was getting longer, he was getting better at slowly sounding out words in second script, and his pronunciation was apparently passable on the couple of basic phrases he was practicing. Jazz had been a bit of a taskmaster, getting him to repeat words over and over until he could consistently say it properly.
Not that he was complaining. He’d thrown himself into learning just as much as she had thrown herself into teaching. He had precious little else to occupy him and a desperate need to keep his mind busy. Plus, he’d need every advantage he could get and knowing the local language was invaluable.
Neither of the siblings had exactly said as much since the day they arrived, but Tim had a creeping feeling that this was the calm before the storm.
He was, regrettably, proven right when Danny stepped into the library in the middle of the day, his face grim.
Tim and Jazz immediately stopped their conversation when they caught sight of his face, turning their attention to him as he walked stiffly over to their little corner.
“Prince. Olive.” He said flatly, offering them a little bow.
“Phantom.” They both replied, inclining their heads in return. Tim knew that there were listening ears, that they had to be careful what they said in public, but he couldn’t help tensing whenever Danny acted like this. Too afraid that one day it wouldn’t be an act.
“I’m afraid I will have to deprive you of Prince’s company for the afternoon, Olive. We need to visit the tailors quite urgently. The High Chief has declared a banquet.”
Tim saw the way Jazz blanched at that, even if she hid it well. This was nothing good then.
“Tonight?” Jazz asked sharply, and Danny nodded, his jaw tense.
“Yes, I have only just been informed, hence our rush to the tailors. They have not yet had time to finish Prince’s formal attire, I fear we shall have to settle for altering some of my garments. You are, of course, invited to attend, sister.”
Now Jazz’s jaw was also clenched, and fire was burning in the eyes of both siblings.
“How kind of the High Chief. Thank you for informing me, brother. I fear I must also take my leave. I have much to prepare for such a… spontaneous banquet.”
Jazz bowed to them both before sweeping out of the library, her attendant- or possibly guard? After the revelation of Jazz’s own imprisonment he wasn’t sure anymore- Red, melting out of the shadow she had been waiting in to fall in step behind her.
Danny offered him a tight smile that Tim couldn’t bring himself to match before they also stepped out into the hall, turning the opposite direction to Jazz.
“Come, the tailors are waiting for us.”
Tim matched Danny’s long strides nervously but stayed quiet, mindful of Danny’s previous warnings. He hoped the fitting would be quick so that he they could go back to their room, and he could ask Danny what the hell was going on.
---
Tim held his tongue until they returned to their rooms, his arms full of clothing. Luckily, he and Danny were of a similar size, so the tailors hadn’t had to make too many alterations. In any other situation Tim would have been impressed by their efficiency, the group of them working in tandem to complete the incredibly last-minute request, but in the circumstances, it felt like every minute dragged on for an age.
The door swung shut behind them and Tim hung back, eyeing Danny nervously as he began pacing the room, his hands moving anxiously to tug at his hair.
“…Danny? What’s going on?” Tim ventured.
Danny paused at Tim’s words, his shoulder’s slumping as he sighed. In that moment, despite his youthful face, he seemed to look so very old as he looked over at Tim regretfully.
“I’m sorry, Tim, I couldn’t explain earlier, and I know this must be terrifying.”
Tim sat down on one of the couches, gesturing for Danny to do the same, hoping to calm the man down a little.
“I get why you couldn’t, you already explained about the listening ears. But we’re behind the wards now, you can speak freely, so please. What’s happening? What about a banquet has you and Jazz so scared?”
Danny was sitting hunched in on himself, looking smaller than Tim was used to seeing him. But, speaking slowly, he did answer Tim’s questions.
“Banquets like this are attended by the entirety of the High Chief’s court. Unfortunately for us, he has decided that both you and Jazz are included in that by virtue of your connection to me, so we have no choice but to attend.”
Danny had his hands clasped in front of him, and fidgeted with them as he spoke, keeping his gaze down.
“A lot of Pariah’s court… Let’s just say we put in a lot of effort to avoid them wherever we can. Jazz especially, since I often can’t avoid seeing them at my duties. They… Banquets like this are the main time we are all forced to be in a room together, and the High Chief often has some kind of agenda in mind when he calls them. Sometimes he’s focussed on someone else so it’s not too bad and we just have to deal with the snakes taking the chance to be awful to us, but this time…”
He lifted his gaze to meet Tim’s eyes for the first time since they’d entered the room.
“This time every other courtier was given the usual amount of notice, except me who was told literally the day of. That, combined with your arrival means that whatever agenda he has tonight, it’s at least partially to do with us. And that’s never a good thing. I’m really sorry, Tim.”
Tim sat, looking blankly at Danny for a long moment as he processed all that.
“Well,” he finally said, “…shit.”
Danny’s face cracked into a grin, albeit a small and tired one, and he sat back, running his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
It was Tim’s turn to stand and begin pacing the length of the room, trying to work the problem in his head.
“You said being to focus of the High Chief’s attention is never good, what kind of things are we actually talking about here? What can we expect?”
Danny watched him solemnly as he paced.
“Without knowing what he wants to get out of it I can’t really be sure. But, if nothing else, banquets like this at least pretend to be courtly, civilised events. They might insult your whole family line, but nothing physical. Tonight at least, they aren’t going to hurt you.”
Tim scoffed and threw him a disbelieving look. Because really? But Danny frowned and sat forward, looking at Tim more intensely.
“I’m serious, Tim. The High Chief has long since forbidden violence at events like this. I mean, it won’t stop the courtiers from trying to get at you some other day, which is part of why these events are so dangerous, but we’ll deal with that as it comes. For tonight, no one will touch you.”
“And Pariah?” Tim crossed his arms and stubbornly met his husband’s gaze. “Are you going to tell me I’m safe from him too?”
Danny met his gaze, hands hanging loosely by his side.
“No, I’m not, because I’m well aware that isn’t a promise I can keep. But, Tim, if I can be blunt? Pariah isn’t going to hurt you tonight because he doesn’t need to hurt you. You are already his prisoner, trapped both physically and by the threat to your people. He doesn’t need to bother to hurt you to keep you in line and if I had to guess, I’d say that’s part of what he wants to prove tonight.”
Tim’s determined posture faltered, his arms shifting to wrap around his midsection as he fell back a step, taken aback by the matter-of-fact breakdown of his situation. He turned his back on Danny to face the window, blinking away the tears that had sprung to his eyes, taking him by surprise almost as much as Danny’s words.
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already known. It wasn’t like he’d managed to somehow forget where he was, but between the friendly conversations, and the library visits, and the gentle smiles, he’d managed to distance himself from it, just the slightest bit.
Having it all thrown in his face by Danny’s voice, here in the rooms they shared, where he’d almost managed to foster a small bubble of calm, felt wrong somehow, in a way he didn’t know if he could articulate yet.
“I’m sorry.” Danny said softly from behind him.
Tim carefully blinked the last of the tears away and turned back around, a smile on his face.
“Don’t be. Ignoring the situation won’t do me any good, nor will dancing around it.”
He took a deep breath and met Danny’s concerned eyes.
“Now, we’d better start getting ready if we want to make it in time. And don’t worry about me,” he said, waving a hand as Danny continued to look far too worried for him, “If there’s one thing high society has prepared me for its making polite conversation with people who hate my guts.”
Notes:
A few nice calm moments with a touch of crushing grief to let Tim get settled in, aren't I nice?
I'm glad you guys are enjoying the gradual reveal of what the hell is happening, I'm having an excellent time and your comments make me actually so happy I swear. That being said, we're gonna start ramping that up next chapter. There might even be, a conversation? (le gasp).
Anyway, next up we have the banquet that will have no effect on the story at all >:)
Chapter 9
Notes:
Hoo boy, this is a long one. Still, I'm excited, I get to do some environmental storytelling, we've got a new character showing up and Tim gets to figure some stuff out.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tim tried his best to keep himself from clutching at Danny’s arm as they stepped together through the grand doorway.
He didn’t think he succeeded.
The room they stepped into was large, easily the largest room he’d seen in the keep so far, as well as the most extravagant.
For the most part Tim had noticed that even here in the High Chief’s keep, the place with the most nobility of the Infinite Lands, most of the architecture and décor was practical and modest. Well made, durable, all still very clearly high quality workmanship, but without the lavish stylings he was used to seeing in the domains of Justrian nobility.
That was not the case here.
The bones of the room echoed the same style as the rest of the keep, forming a long, high ceilinged hall with windows set high along the walls, but on top of that was piled layers and layers of finery. Intricate tapestries on the walls, silverware polished to a shine besides every plate, golden candelabras shining brightly with rich pure white candles. The door they stepped through lead onto a thick, brilliant red carpet that stretched the entire length of the room, past the two long tables on either side, and ended before a dais on which stood a throne inlaid with jewels.
It was ostentatious to the point of being gaudy, everything piled together to show the greatest accumulation of wealth possible with no consideration towards aesthetic, practicality or the faintest whiff of restraint.
Tim might have been the son of a noble family, but even he knew the hours of labour it would take a staff of servants to maintain a display like this, to keep such a vibrant carpet clean as every attendant to this room walked directly over it, to keep the silverware untarnished. Any lord worthy of his title had to learn to balance his own tastes with the practicalities of maintaining it, the cost that went into its upkeep, even just in terms of how many servants to hire.
Pariah had apparently never even thought of such a thing.
Tim and Danny walked down the carpet and approached the throne, Tim’s hand resting on the forearm Danny had offered before the stepped into the room. Tim fought to keep his head up, his expression cool and his posture relaxed. Appearance is half the battle. Never act like you don’t belong lest everyone else believe it too.
He never thought he’d be so grateful for his mother’s lessons, but they were likely to serve him well in the nest of vipers Danny had had warned him to expect tonight.
The people they passed were no less ostentatious than the room around them. Fine silks and furs, intricate embroidery carefully shown off. Precious jewels sparkled on every woman they passed, and a good number of the men too. It wasn’t an especially large crowd, but the sheer opulence was honestly staggering, especially contrasted to the poverty Tim had seen as they rode through the town, and even in the rest of the keep.
Tim fancied he could pick out who was closest to Pariah just by finding the most lavishly adorned.
Tim had though when getting dressed that he and Danny would have no trouble fitting in with an elite crowd. They were both dressed in fabrics that were unfamiliar, but clearly far finer than he had seen Danny is before.
Between the hand-me-downs from Danny and the practical clothes he’d been wearing on patrol, Tim had to admit it felt nice to control his appearance a little again, to put together a beautiful front of silks and careful tailoring that he could hide behind, draw confidence from. When he’d stepped out in the finished outfit Danny had almost gaped for a good second or two before pulling himself together, so Tim assumed he had managed to make himself look pretty good according to the unfamiliar fashions.
Still, looking around now at the crown, the gap between them was clear. There were definitely some in the crowd dressed to the same level as them but compared to the people barely keeping from sneering down their noses at them, Tim and Danny were frightfully unadorned.
That could have been due to the last-minute nature of Tim’s outfit, but judging from the way the looks they were being given matched the whisp of disgust that Tim could feel from Danny, he had a feeling that the relative frugality was a deliberate choice.
And, frankly, not one that Tim disagreed with. The Wayne’s had never been known for their personal extravagance compared to the other royal families and nobles of Justria. Since the time of Bruce’s parents, and especially since Jason’s addition, their family had never been one to spend money on new elaborate outfits and shining indulgences when their people were starving. The Wayne history was a long one. They already had more jewellery and finery in their vaults than any one person would ever use, they hardly had a need to commission more of it.
Tim didn’t know if Danny’s thinking fell along even remotely similar lines, but he couldn’t fault his decision, even if it made the back of his neck prickle to stand out in yet another way.
After the over-the-top decadence of the room itself and the guests in particular, it was a shock when they finally reached the throne where Pariah was sat, looking almost the same as he had when he first appeared in the woods outside of Gotham.
His riding gear had been exchanged for clean clothes, his armour was clearly less used and less battered, the black metal polished to a shine that betrayed this set as rather more ornamental than the one Tim had previously seen. The same sword still hung from his belt though.
His helmet was missing, revealing the spiked black crown that sat across his brow, shimmering in those same green flames that Tim had seen him summon along the length of his sword. The sight of them drew an involuntary shudder from him, and he was sure that Danny could feel the spike of fear.
The lack of helmet though, allowed Tim his first real sight of the man behind all of his sufferings, behind the mythology and fear that spread from him, that he himself no doubt carefully cultivated in allies and enemies alike.
It was… strange.
On one hand, he was just a man.
His skin was pale, unhealthily so if Tim was being honest, but that was not uncommon among the citizens of the Lands he had seen thus far. Danny himself was ghastly pale, and Tim honestly wasn’t that far off if he was being honest with himself. Pariah’s dark hair was tied back in intricate braids, not one streak of grey visible despite his impossible age. One of his eyes was missing, concealed under a black patch, and his chin was covered by a short goatee.
On the other hand, he was anything but.
A gruesome scar carved its way down his face, beneath the patch covering his missing eye. It was far from the only one, every inch of visible skin seemed to be covered by completely healed scars that looked like they would have downed any lesser man. The only indication of his true age, whatever that may be; the scars from a hundred years of fighting showed themselves plainly against his face. His surviving eye, with an almost matching scar that marred the skin on either side, apparently without damaging the eye itself, glowed like so many of the other people he had seen since his arrival. Again, his husband’s eyes sported that same glow.
But where Danny’s eyes were a brilliant green, Pariah’s eye burned a violent red, shining brighter than anyone else Tim had seen, so that the light of it could be seen reflecting off his cheekbone and the raised edges of his scars like spilled blood, lending him a ghastly appearance like he had just stepped out of a massacre.
Just as so much or the Infinite Lands, their ruler was practically overflowing with magic, from the eye to the crown, and Tim couldn’t decide if this uncovered countenance was more or less terrifying than the appearance he had shown in every battle fought against Tim’s homeland.
With so much power on display just in his own features, Tim supposed it was no wonder that the High Chief felt no need to indulge in the overly lavish stylings the rest of his court had adopted. The room around him and the crown atop his head spoke more than loudly enough without bedecking himself in jewels, and he clearly knew it.
As Tim and Danny finally reached the base of the dais, they both knelt before the throne and Danny spoke in the Enduring Word. He had briefed Tim earlier, on all the formal little exchanges that needed to take place, introductions, thanking the host, all manner of performative pleasantries that had calcified into ritual.
Thankfully, with Tim being there solely as Danny’s husband and with no standing beyond that that would be recognised in this court, it was expected for Danny to speak on both of their behalf. Tim was on strict do not speak unless spoken to orders tonight and he was honestly thankful for it.
He had been studying hard, but a single week with a new language was hardly enough to recognise some common insults he might be encounter, let alone hold a formal conversation. He hadn’t even started trying to learn the members and workings of Pariah’s court yet, something he was starting to regret, not that he would have been able to master that fast enough either.
So, leaving as much talking as possible to Danny for tonight? Something Tim was very on board with.
Pariah responded to Danny’s statement with one of his own and gestured them towards one of the tables running the length of the hall. With one final bow, Tim and Danny rose to move towards their seats, allowing the next person to approach Pariah. Tim let out a quiet sigh of relief at the first hurdle of the night cleared but tensed up again as he saw Danny’s jaw clench at something Tim hadn’t spotted yet.
Following his husband’s eyes, he saw a man staring right back at them from next to an empty section of table, a smirk on his face that did not bode well in Tim’s opinion.
The man had light grey hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck, with a few small braids leading into it to embellish the look. His outfit was right at home among their extravagant surroundings, most notably with the large red gemstone that sat glittering at the base of his throat.
Curiously, despite his poise and finery, his eyes did not have the glow that Tim had begun to think of as characteristic of citizens of the Lands. While he hadn’t seen any on the level of Danny and Pariah, most people he had seen around the castle had at least a faint shine to their eyes. Enough to jar him as unusual for the first few days he was here. But now it was standard enough that the sight of completely dull blue eyes seemed strange here in the centre of the High Chief’s court.
The only other person he could really draw to mind that had what Tim couldn’t help but still think of as ‘normal’ looking eyes was Jazz. Which, at the time that had made sense to him since she was here as some kind of hostage, not as a citizen, but now that he was thinking about it, that didn’t explain why Danny, her brother, had brighter eyes than everyone but the High Chief. Why would two siblings, born from the same family, have such a disparity between them?
He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He didn’t understand enough about why these people had glowing eyes in the first place to try and make any educated guesses on that front. He’d have to ask one of the siblings about it later, but right now he had other things that he could not afford to be distracted from.
Namely, the disquietingly staring man that Danny was guiding them to sit next to. Thankfully, Danny took the seat directly next to the smirking man, leaving Tim to sit next to an overly bejewelled woman who gave him one disdainful look before sniffing and fully turning her back to return to her conversation with the man next to her.
Which. Wow. Both rude and uncalled for. But frankly, Tim would take it if it meant he only had to deal with occasional snide glances all night, and not actual harassment. It didn’t look like they’d be so luck with the man next to Danny.
“Phantom, how good to see you again, it has been far too long.” The man drawled, in English this time. Tim was fascinated to realise he could actually feel Danny’s irritation spike just at the sound of the man’s voice. The emotion must have been strong to come through like that.
“Won’t you introduce me to your new… conquest?” he continued, leaning forward to leer at Tim. It took every bit of his long years training his society mask to keep his face impassive even as disgust grew in his chest, and the steady fire of anger in his chest burned higher.
“Of course,” Danny said through gritted teeth. “Plasmius, this is my husband, Prince. Prince, this is Plasmius, a member of the High Chief’s court.”
“Nice to meet you.” Tim said simply, offering the barest of nods to the man.
“Charmed, I’m sure.” He replied, an oily tone to his words that made Tim want to cringe and go wash his hands. “But my dear Phantom, you do me a disservice! To introduce me simply as another member of the court, what impression do you want to give to your dear husband, that my position exists in name only? Merely for the sake of keeping up appearances?
Danny stiffened at that, barely holding back a glare, and Tim could frankly see the smug satisfaction rolling off Plasmius in waves. Tim was missing something here, there was some reference he was not privy to…
“By all means, Plasmius, do illuminate us then. I would so hate to deprive you of an opportunity to talk about yourself.”
Plasmius’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Tim braced himself, but the man settled himself in his seat and seemed to let the snark go without comment.
“I would be happy to. I, young Prince, am indeed a member of our High Chief’s most esteemed court, alongside your husband here, but I am also one of his close advisors and like to think of myself as something of a scholar. An innovator, if you will, pushing boundaries and performing experiments to further the knowledge and resources available to the High Chief.” He adopted an almost pouting expression as he continued.
“Of course, my most recent experiment was something of a failure,” Danny’s hands clenched where they rested on his legs, “But I’m sure your husband could tell you all about that should you be interested.”
Plasmius’s face morphed into a sharp glare which Danny met with his own icy one, but his voice was calm when he responded.
“I doubt there is much I could explain about your work, Plasmius. You keep so much of it confined to your work rooms, I’m not sure I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing one of your rumoured ‘successful’ experiments.”
Plasmius’s glare intensified, starting to lose the veneer of affability he had been maintaining.
“Yes, I’m sure the inside of my workroom is quite foreign to you. Is that why you returned from your mission to the border with a brand new- what is that lovely turn of phrase- ah yes, a new ball and chain? ”
Tim could feel the spike of Danny’s anger, and see it reflected in his clenched jaw, but his voice remained even as he spoke.
“I don’t see what my marriage has to do with this discussion, nor why it makes you think I have more than a passing familiarity with your work. The union was ordered by the High Chief, and I can assure you, the details of your duties to him are a mystery to me.”
“Yes, I’m sure they are, and not just my academic duties, no doubt.” Plasmius’s eyes were blazing now, his tone just short of spitting. “After all, for all the High Chief might parade you around, what idea would you have of the duties of a real member of this court? We both know why you’re really here, and-”
Whatever he’d been about to say next, he was cut off as Pariah Dark rose from his throne and every conversation in the room was instantly plunged into silence. Plasmius shot one more dirty look their way before settling back in his seat, his smugness regrettably restored as he directed his attention to the High Chief.
Once every eye in the room was focussed on the throne, Pariah began to speak, his booming voice echoing through the vaulted ceiling. Tim could guess that he was making some kind of triumphant or boastful speech from the tone he was taking, but unfortunately the High Chief was speaking in the Enduring Word, so Tim had no clue as to the actual content of what he was saying.
He didn’t dare let himself appear not to be paying attention, but he did let his eyes drift across the other assembled guests, taking in their appearances, trying to commit them to memory. Each of them had their attention focussed on the High Chief, many nodding along to whatever he was saying.
As he looked across the opposite table, his eyes snagged on a familiar face. He hadn’t noticed her come in, but sitting on the other side of the room was Jazz, her hair piled on top of her head, and wearing a dress finer than anything he’d seen her in.
She looked beautiful, but it was impossible not to notice how unadorned she was compared to her neighbours. Or for Tim to miss the fire in her eyes as she stared at Pariah. She wasn’t so stupid as to glare at him, but Tim knew her well enough to pick out the rage bubbling behind her carefully neutral expression.
He needed to learn more about how and why Jazz was here. He’d refrained from asking out of politeness and fear of the wards, but after that conversation with Plasmius it was clear that there were things at play here that he didn’t understand.
Jazz had implied she was a prisoner here, similar to him, and looking at the way she stood out tonight, restrained finery and no glow to her eyes, he could see the truth of it, the way both of them stood out as unusual. The question was, exactly how similar really were their situations?
Where had she come from? What circumstances had led her to be imprisoned here? To live in the same keep as her brother and yet be treated so different, look so different. And. What use did Pariah have for her?
Tim was here as a political hostage. Magically tied to a trusted court member to ensure his family’s compliance in the treaty.
But the longer he was here, the more he suspected there was more to it than that. Because Danny was a lot of things, but so far Tim hadn’t found a single thing that would recommend him if Pariah wanted someone to keep a kidnapped Prince in line.
He was kind and empathetic. He was helpful and considerate. He answered every one of Tim’s questions and did whatever he could to help him. He was wracked with guilt for his part in hurting Tim. Behind closed doors, he spoke out against Pariah, cursed the man even.
The question that Tim had been asking since that first night turned in his head. Why had Pariah chosen Danny as his husband?
The High Chief was not a stupid man. He couldn’t be to successfully govern a kingdom and wage a war with the entire continent for a literal century. So even if Danny was covert about it, he had to know he was far from loyal.
After all, who would be loyal to the man holding… his sister… hostage…
Tim’s eyes narrowed.
Hadn’t Danny described his mission to the border as a punishment? And then Plasmius had described Tim himself as a ball and chain, of all the euphemisms to use. Tim had thought he was only here as a hostage against his family, that the marriage was just a way of ensuring he was tied here, but what if there was more to it than that? Afterall, the only two people in the keep that were in this position, what was the only thing he and Jazz had in common, the only person they both had ties to?
Could his marriage have really been as much of a trap for Danny as it was for Tim? Danny was clearly compassionate, and had promised the night they met that he would do whatever he could to protect Tim, was Pariah using that to threaten Danny? Using the marriage as a way to punish him for whatever he had done, tighten the leash that already existed with Jazz, and kill two birds with one stone to control both the Justrians and Danny?
But why? Danny was just a General, what about him was so important that Pariah go to all this effort? None of this made sense if Danny was just a regular court member. What could Danny possibly offer that meant Pariah would keep him in his court, let him ward his rooms, roam freely around the keep? What had Danny done that he was being punished for, was it the same as whatever Plasmius had been referencing earlier?
There was something he was missing, and if he could just grasp it-
Tim’s thoughts were cut off as Pariah’s voice switched to English, and he snapped his attention back to the throne.
“And of course, I would be remiss not to welcome the newest addition to our court. We have the young Prince to thank for this new era of peace with Gotham and the alliance of Justria. We, of course, thank him for his service to these Lands, and wish him well in his role as husband to General Phantom. Without him, none of this would be possible.”
Tim’s ears buzzed with static as the High Chief raised a glass to him, smirking. Stiff as a board, he managed to politely bow his head to the High Chief in response, staring blankly down at his plate. He felt his cheeks burn in humiliation as he heard the entire room laughing politely like the Pariah had told a hilarious joke.
He could feel Danny’s concerned eyes on him, but couldn’t bring himself to crack the mask that had solidified over his face.
He’d been prepared for the comments he would get. He’d been warned that he would likely have Pariah’s attention tonight, that he would be part of the High Chief’s agenda. But he’d still managed to be caught off guard by how much the High Chief’s words would cut into him.
Shame boiled in his gut as he felt like every eye in the room was smirking at him, focused on him, on their ruler thanking him, handing him the responsibility of what the bastard had used him to do to his family. On the pain he had caused them, the corner he had forced them into, the plan he no doubt had in mind to take advantage of how he had tied their hands.
It’s not my fault. He thought fervently. Place the blame where its due. Pariah Dark stole me from my home, there was nothing I could do.
He felt Danny surreptitiously entwine their fingers and give his hand a comforting squeeze. Tim squeezed back, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
It doesn’t matter what he says, he’s a liar and a monster. He doesn’t get to put this at my feet when he’s the one who stole every bit of agency from me.
Tim let out a slow breath, holding the anger, the righteousness close to his chest, like a spark he would tend into a fire, even if he refused to let any of it show on his face. This was not the place, and he would not let the villain’s words break his composure. No way in hell was he letting him win like that.
So, he gave Danny’s hand one final squeeze before letting go, turning his gaze back to the throne where Pariah had turned back to face the room as a whole.
“And now, we feast!” He roared, a cheer going up from the assembled group, nearly deafening Tim as it echoed off the stone walls and vaulted ceilings.
Tim took a deep breath. The worst was done, now he just needed to make it through the rest of the night.
---
The walk back to their rooms was quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts and worn out from the hours they spent at the banquet. Quite frankly, Tim would have been happy to pass out in the hall if he was confident that he wouldn’t wake up without a knife in his back.
But Tim couldn’t stop thinking, surreptitiously watching Danny out of the corner of his eye.
The more he thought about it, the more his realisation from earlier started to make sense. There were a hundred little oddities he’d noticed about his husband that resolved themselves if he stopped making the assumption that Danny was as free as he appeared to be.
He felt a little foolish for not realising it earlier, Jazz had even said that her own imprisonment wasn’t her story to tell and that he should ask Danny, in hindsight it seemed obvious.
But in his defence, he hadn’t been able to afford to think too charitably about Danny before he had proof. He had to look out for himself first and foremost, and that included being suspicious of Danny even when he acted nice, even when he made promises and seemed to try to keep them. If Tim didn’t watch his own back in this place, then no one would.
Although… was that still true?
If Danny was really trapped here as well, if he was being honest in his disdain of Pariah, then maybe Tim could afford to trust the kindness he offered? Could Tim really have an ally here? Someone he could rely on?
The idea was as heady as it was dangerous, that he might be able to actually relax for the first time since he’d left his city walls, that maybe he could take a breath, trust the safety he had started to feel in their shared rooms.
Tim wasn’t naïve, he knew that if he was right, then Danny had much less than the already limited power Tim had assumed he had. There was likely very little he could do to keep him safe if Pariah decided to hurt Tim, if he himself was also trapped by the man. But still, Danny had never actually promised he would be safe here, just that he would try, try to protect him, try to keep him safe. And the relief of being able to believe that promise was a like a weight off his shoulders, even if it didn’t make him any safer than he had been yesterday.
He still didn’t understand everything. There were still pieces of the puzzle he was missing. But… maybe he didn’t have to be so careful anymore. Maybe he didn’t have to consider every word before he spoke and could just… ask him.
Maybe they could be in this together.
So lost in his thoughts, Tim didn’t notice they had arrived at their rooms until Danny let go of his arm to unlock the doors.
They stepped inside and Danny locked the door behind them, his eyes flashing brighter briefly as he checked the wards. Then he sighed, rubbing his neck and running a hand through his styled hair, messing it up, the exhaustion heavy around him.
Tim stayed standing at the door, watching Danny stagger across the room, tugging at his collar and slumping on the couch with an arm across his eyes. After a long second, he sighed again, dropping his arm and rolling his head to direct tired eyes towards Tim.
“Are you ok? I’m sorry I know that went on forev-”
“Pariah’s keeping you prisoner as well, isn’t he?” Tim interrupted him, his matter-of-fact words cutting across what Danny had been saying.
Danny’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened, some of the exhaustion fleeing them in favour of shock. Tim paid him no mind and continued speaking mildly as he carefully took off his jacket and folded it over the arm of the couch.
“It was pretty obvious with what Plasmius was saying. And once I realised, it explained a lot of things. He’s holding Jazz hostage against you, and me as well now. We’re both ways for him to keep you in line.”
He turned his gaze back to Danny, who had sat up straight, his wide eyes still locked on Tim.
“But what I don’t understand is why. I’ve been trying to figure out why you were the one I was married to since the first night, and I suppose it makes sense if he wanted another way to control you, but it still doesn’t explain why any of this is necessary. This seems so out of line with his usual tactics. What did you do that he felt the need to punish you like this? And- Danny, just what is he having you do that is so important he’d go to all this effort? Why is he bothering to find all these hostages at all? Why would he keep you alive and running around the keep when you obviously hate his guts?”
Danny stared at him for another long second, mildly stunned before dropping his face into his hands. Tim took the opportunity to seat himself on the couch, arranging his hands politely in his lap as he waited. After a second, Danny ran his hands down his face with a sigh and looked up tiredly to meet Tim’s eyes.
“It’s less about what I can do for him,” he said, and offered Tim a worn and bitter smile, “And more about what I am.”
“…what you are?” Tim asked softly. Danny opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly searching for the words, before standing with a quiet huff.
“If I’m going to explain all of this,” he said, ducking into the bedroom and emerging with a pair of cloaks, “Then there is someone you should meet.”
Notes:
Me, planning this: and then Vlad will show up and be the slimiest bitch who thinks he's so subtle but really isn't
Me, writing Vlad: ...ewwwwww. God this guy sucks why is he so grossAnyway, I'm so excited! We're almost getting answers! The next two chapters are going to be where a LOT of things get explained, mostly about Danny and how we ended up in this situation. (It was gonna be one chapter but each half is over 4000 words so, uhhh, yeah we splitting)
Who do you think Danny is taking them to meet? I'm not sure how easy this one is to guess, probably not very when I haven't explained literally any of the relevant lore or backstory lol, but I can't wait to introduce them.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Thank you all for your lovely responses to last chapter! I was kinda nervous since it's where Tim finally figures out a lot of stuff.
I sort of struggled since obviously I know everything that's going on from the start, so I kept bouncing between oh my god this is so obvious he's going to look like an idiot, and wait does he (and the audience) even know about [insert key plotpoint here] yet? Oh whoops, should probably hint at that a little more so it's not too out of left field.
From your comments it seems like I managed to strike an ok balance, so that's really nice.
Ok, without further ado, let's get some answers up in here!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tim swallowed nervously as he followed Danny further down the shadowy staircase.
He was pretty sure they were well below the castle at this point, but he couldn’t be certain. Danny hadn’t brought any kind of light with them, too wary of being noticed even this late at night. The keep was asleep around them, and Tim found himself lost after only a few turns, having moved well off the paths he had taken before, everything unfamiliar and draped in shadows. But just by counting the stairs, he knew they were much further down than he’d even known they could go.
He had a million questions- where they were going, who they were seeing, what had Danny meant earlier- but he didn’t dare give voice to them, too scared to break the weight of silence around them, and even more wary of the wards and getting them caught.
Eventually, they reached the bottom of the curling stone staircase and finally, finally, Danny drew to a halt.
Tim could still barely see Danny’s silhouette in front of him, but he thought he heard something shifting off to his left.
Danny listed his hand, and Tim could see the glow in his eyes flare as a soft ball of light grew from Danny’s hand and floated into the air, softly illuminating the hallway around them in a gentle glow.
Not just the hallway, Tim realised. What he had assumed was another wall on his left was actually a row of heavy metal bars, covered in engravings for some reason, that were driven solidly into the stone floor and ceiling, the light just barely reaching the edges of the cell behind them.
Something moved in one of the shadowed corners and Tim couldn’t help tensing as glowing red eyes looked out at him and a figure rose to their feet and stepped into the light.
He was big. Taller and older than both Tim and Danny, and at least as large as Jason. His hair was the same snowy shade as Danny’s, but longer and unkempt, a tangled mess hanging around his shoulders. He looked like he hadn’t left the cell in a long time, but his eyes were bright and intent in a way that made Tim instinctively want to take a step back as he prowled up to lean against the bars in front of them.
“Well, well, well. This is a surprise.” The man drawled, his voice deep and sounding especially loud in the silence of the hallway. “Wasn’t expecting you to bring company down her with you.” He looms over them, staring down at Danny with a smirk. “Been a while, hasn’t it, runt.”
Tim swallowed nervously, looking between them, but to his surprise Danny didn’t seem nervous, or intimidated by the display. Instead, he looked relaxed in a way Tim had only seen when they were alone or with Jazz, when there were safe behind the wards. If he was reading him right, Danny even looked faintly rueful, like he was being chided.
“It has. I’m sorry, a lot of things have happened, and I wasn’t able to sneak down here. But I need to explain some things, to both of you, and it’d be best if we can all be here for it. Speaking of,” he gestured at Tim,” this is Prince, my husband. Is it alright if I introduce you to him?”
The man’s eyes narrowed, his posture straightening out of its performative looming to settle into something more serious.
“Alright. You will be explaining the husband bit though.”
“Yeah, I know,” Danny said and turned to offer a small smile to Tim. “Prince, I’d like to introduce Dan, my brother. He hasn’t found a chosen name yet.”
“Your brother?” he asked, as his eyebrows rose. Just how many of Danny’s siblings did Pariah have imprisoned?
Danny looked a little shifty, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yes, although not by blood. Or- I suppose it actually did involve a fair bit of blood, now that I think about it. What I mean is that most people wouldn’t consider us brothers- honestly most people wouldn’t believe us if we explained- but- that is to say-” He sighed, offering a sheepish smile and running his hand through his hair. “Sorry. It’s just… complicated?”
Dan snorted from behind him, looking amused at Danny’s fumbling.
“You’re right about that short stack. But I’m calling dibs, you’re going to explain how the hell you got yourself hitched before we try and get into that whole mess.”
Danny sighed again. “Yeah, alright that’s fair.” He glanced at Tim. “Are you alright if I…”
Tim was burning with questions but swallowed them with grace. He could wait a few more minutes.
“No, go ahead. And, uh…” He turned to address Dan directly. “My name’s Tim by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
Dan looked shocked and Danny looked pleased at the introduction. Tim tried his best not to fidget under their eyes. It seemed only fair, he and Jazz had exchanged names just because they were both in Danny’s clan, so it didn’t make sense to not offer the same to Dan.
Luckily, Dan pulled himself together pretty quickly, and offered a small bow to Tim.
“Thank you, it’s nice to meet you as well.” He said, surprisingly politely compared to everything else he’d said so far, before turning to stare impatiently at Danny.
Danny sighed again, wringing his hands slightly as he explained.
“It’s… ok look, it’s a long story. A lot has happened since I could last visit you Dan.” He said, shooting a look towards his brother who raised as eyebrow. “But the long and the short of it is that I did something that got Pariah pissed at me but didn’t leave any proof that I was the one that did it. So, when I objected to one of his plans in a meeting, he decided to use that as an excuse to punish me for both.”
Dan had dropped his aggressive posture and was looking at Danny in concern, possibly checking him for injuries if Tim was reading it right. Danny avoided his gaze though, not offering the chance to interrupt.
“So, I found myself shipped off on a mission to the border with him and the asshole squadron. Didn’t even have a chance to let Jazz know beforehand.” Danny chuckled ruefully, before gesturing at Tim. “Pariah’s plan was to kidnap and hold one of Gotham’s princes hostage in order to force the alliance to agree to a five-year ceasefire. Since I dared to object to his plan, I was the one he forced Tim to marry, so he could kill two birds with one stone and get another innocent person to control me with.” Danny’s tone turned bitter and scornful by the end, and Tim and Dan both frowned at him in concern.
“Danny…” Tim said, not sure what he could say to help. It wasn’t like anything Danny had said was technically untrue, and Tim was for once not at all pleased to have his theory be proven right. Luckily, Dan had no such uncertainties.
“Just because the asshole does something evil in order to get at you, doesn’t make it your fault.” Dan said bluntly. “C’mon kid, I thought we’d been over this. He’s evil he would have been doing bad shit anyway, no use feeling guilty just because he decided to hurt you with it this time.”
Danny muttered and crossed his arms, looking away. Tim got the impression this was an argument they’d had many times before. Danny was being too quiet for Tim to make out his words, but apparently Dan didn’t have the same problem, despite being further away, because he barked out a laugh at whatever Danny said.
“Ha! You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If anything, sounding like Jazz just means I’m right and you just don’t want to admit it.”
Danny blushed slightly and scowled harder, which just made Dan laugh again. Eventually Danny threw his hands up in exasperation, apparently fed up with his brother’s antics.
“Whatever, asshole. I answered your question so you can kindly just shut up. I still need to explain who the hell you are to Tim anyway.”
Dan let the laughter subside, levelling Danny with an assessing look hidden behind the grin that was still on his face.
“You sure you want to get into all that? It ain’t exactly a happy story.”
Danny shrugged, letting the annoyance leak from his posture.
“Yeah, I know. That’s part of why I brought him down here, I couldn’t explain everything without explaining this and I wanted to make sure you were fine with me telling him.”
Dan shook his head dismissively. “Hells, kid, it doesn’t bother me, I thought we’d been over this. It’s your tragic backstory.”
“Yeah, and it’s your origin story.” Danny shot back.
“And I just said it doesn’t bother me! So, what are you waiting for!”
Danny huffed before turning to grin ruefully at Tim.
“Alright. Tim, have you ever heard of a shadowborn?”
Tim shook his head, glancing between the two brothers as Dan settled in to lean against the bars of his cell.
“I thought so, they’re pretty specific to the Lands. You know about wraiths though, right?”
“Yeah, everyone back home knows about them.” Tim couldn’t help the slight shudder as he spoke. “I’ve heard stories from the soldiers who faced them, and then I saw them up close when Pariah used them to ambush my party and capture me.”
Danny winced slightly but nodded along to what Tim was saying.
“That makes sense, that’s how most people know them nowadays. But the thing is, they didn’t used to be like that. Wraiths are just corpses that have been reanimated by some kind of magic, they don’t have an inherent morality and won’t attack on their own unless provoked.” Danny shrugged, gesturing around them.
“The Lands are a very magical place. It isn’t uncommon for some ambient force to create a wraith, without any real direction, and before the war, they were just a fact of life. They made people uncomfortable, but no one hated them.” He dropped his hands, sighing.
“The difference now, is that Pariah has been making them deliberately, and is making them into soldiers. He’s been using his own magic to reanimate them and has been making more out of the fallen in every major battle to add to his forces. That’s… respecting the dead is really important here. Creating a wraith for you own ends is seen as deeply wrong. For him to do it at such scale, even to people who are technically our enemies...” Danny shook his head.
“From what I’ve read Pariah used to be well liked, but when he started doing that… it was a tipping point for a lot of people. Things got a lot more bloody, and within a few years everyone was too scared to act against him, after seeing what he was capable of.”
Tim glanced around nervously, having firmly ingrained the understanding outside their own rooms someone could always be listening. “Is it ok for you to be talking like that out here?”
Dan grinned maliciously and Danny smiled, jerking his head towards his brother.
“We’re fine, don’t worry. Dan’s got a talent for destroying wards, and eventually they just gave up on replacing the surveillance ones.”
“I think it was breaking them before they even left the room that did it.” Dan said, with a frankly evil chuckle. “That one asswipe tried to put the same ward up four times in half an hour before he threw the towel in. I think I might have broken him, he was swearing an awful lot.”
“I think seeing that would break anyone’s spirit.” Danny said, laughing along. “He probably worked really hard on those. But!” He waved his hands in front of him, as if clearing the air. “That’s not the point. I was trying to explain shadowborn, not dunk on Pariah.”
“Even if he deserves it.” Dan muttered under his breath. Danny glared at him but didn’t acknowledge the words, turning his attention back to Tim.
“Ok, so. Wraiths; dead bodies animated by some kind of magic.” Tim nodded along. “Shadowborn on the other hand, are similar to wraiths, but instead are created by some kind of magic. Specifically, it has to be the magic that comes from someone’s death. Like I said, the Lands are very magical. Sometimes someone very powerful dies, or someone dies from a powerful spell, or whatever reason, the energy from that death creates a brand-new being with their own body and all the memories of the dead person. They’ve got all kinds of abilities, strength, speed, enhanced senses, all that stuff.” Danny ticked off on his fingers as he spoke.
“They can even, like, melt into shadows and travel through them, which is part of where the name comes from. They’re much less common and much more complex than wraiths, so Pariah hasn’t been able to use them in his army. Though not for lack of trying.” Danny mumbled the last sentence under his breath, drawing a frown from Dan, who opened his mouth as if to say something.
Danny didn’t give him a chance though, clapping his hands and continuing on brightly.
“Anyway, that’s the basics of a shadowborn, which is what Dan is!” He said, gesturing at his brother who snapped his mouth shut with a glare.
Tim couldn’t help staring slightly as he tried to process the abruptness with which Danny had just dropped that information.
“Oh.” He managed weakly and saw Danny wince slightly.
He was trying desperately not to let this change his view of Dan. Whatever else he was, he was Danny’s brother, and they clearly cared deeply about each other, even with all the bickering.
He was going to take every assumption his brain leapt to when he heard “similar to a wraith but created from the power of someone’s death” and he was going to put it all in a box. And he was going to tie that box shut and shove it far off into the corners of his mind. Wraiths were feared and dreaded and terrifying but they were also mindless, something Dan clearly was not.
He wasn’t a shambling monster, or an evil creature, he was Danny’s brother. This was a magical land, so magical things happened. No big deal. He was in the dungeons, but considering he was in Pariah’s dungeon, that was hardly an accurate indicator of wrongdoing. Almost the opposite, in fact.
Ok. Tim could work with this. It was all a lot to take in, but he could handle it.
“Uh- Specifically,” Danny said awkwardly, “The death that Dan was born from was- well, uh. Mine.”
Tim blinked at him.
Ok, never mind, he can’t handle this, what the actual fuck Danny.
“Forgive me for being crass,” Tim said mildly, “but you seem rather lively for a corpse.”
Dan snorted. He waved a hand and turned away when they directed their attention to him, but Tim could still see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. Danny for his part just rubbed his neck bashfully, looking exceedingly awkward.
“Uh, yeah, I- I got better?”
Dan let out another bark of laughter and turned back towards them when Danny glared fiercely at him.
“Sorry, sorry.” He said, not looking at all sorry as he wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s just- You are so bad at this, holy shit.”
“Well, it’s not like I get much chance to practice telling people about this!” Danny said hotly, although a smile was starting to edge onto his face.
“Oh, Jazz and her little friend don’t count? I thought you told them the whole story, did it go this badly then too? Is that the real reason you haven’t brought Jazz to visit. All that talk about the surveillance and really you were just afraid we’d gossip about you.” Dan said, grinning widely.
“Oh, shut up, asshole.” Danny said, playfully shoving his brother’s face from between the bars. Tim felt another pang of homesickness, deep in his chest as he watched them mess with each other. It was exactly the kind of light-hearted bickering he used to get into with his siblings, neither one of them caring about the actual point of the argument but absolutely refusing to back down from whatever side they’d landed on. He wondered if the rest of them still did that, now that he was gone. He wondered if he’d ever get to see them again.
He pushed it away. This wasn’t the time.
“Ok, ok, ok.” Danny said, bringing Tim’s attention back to the conversation. “Can I please finish explaining now? Regardless of how good or bad I might be at it?” He said, shooting a pointed look at Dan, who raised his hands in surrender, although it was undermined by the unrepentant grin still on his face.
“Be my guest,” said Dan, with a mock bow that Danny rolled his eyes at.
“Alright. So, yes, Dan was created by my death, but it’s more complicated than that. Clearly.” Dan scoffed lightly in the background, which Danny ignored. “Have you ever been to Star kingdom?”
“Uh, yes, a few times. We’re both part of the alliance, and my brother is good friends with their crown prince, so I’m quite familiar with the place.” Tim said, only floundering for a second at the apparent no-sequitur.
“Have you heard of Amity Park? I wouldn’t imagine you’d have been there, it’s far too small to host royalty, but have you ever seen it on a map?”
Tim frowned, thinking hard. He could confess that Star geography was not his area of expertise, but something about the name was ringing a bell.
“Is that the town on border with the Infinite Lands? It was attacked, a little over two years ago now? I remember King Oliver bringing it up because it was unusual for Pariah to attack and not wipe out the whole place. We were trying to work out his strategy.”
Danny looked pained, and Dan had dropped his casual posture to look at his brother with concern. Danny offered a small smile to Tim as he spoke, although it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I was born there.” He said simply, shrugging as if that would make the admittance appear casual.
“Oh. Oh… I- Danny, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” Tim started, feeling awful to talk about Danny’s home in such an impersonal way. Dismissing all the damage that was likely done, the irreparable change to their lives. To his shame, Tim couldn’t even remember what the actual damage to the town was, just that it hadn’t been absolute.
Danny waved him off, smile still looking thin, but his words sounded sincere.
“Don’t be. I was already gone by then. That attack was when they captured Jazz and brought us both to the keep, but I had left the town months before then and had been living in the Lands.”
He sighed, looking away from Tim and Dan down the long dark hallway they stood in, eyes distant as if seeing far beyond it. When he turned back to them, he just looked tired.
“Tim, I’d assume your family has royal mages and the likes. Have they ever talked to you about the difficulty in trying to send any kind of spell across the border of the Lands?”
Tim nodded carefully. This story was obviously painful for Danny, so he allowed the subject change, but he didn’t want to carelessly hurt Danny with his words again.
“Yes, my sister Barabara is an expert in surveillance spells. It always frustrates her endlessly trying to get them to work past the border.”
Danny smiled humourlessly at him.
“Yeah, well. It frustrated my parents too. That’s why they moved to Amity, before Jazz and I were born. They wanted to study the border, try and find the warding spell so they could dismantle it. Of course, it doesn’t work like that, but they dedicated their lives to it. Our house was constantly scattered with ingredients, half-finished charms, you name it. They spent half their time down in the woods near the border, just looking to get themselves killed if a patrol had ever come past.”
Tim’s brow furrowed as Danny talked. He recognised that type of bitterness, the one that came with constantly waiting in an empty home, seeing your parents throw every ounce of energy that they had into something that they had long decided was the most important thing in their lives. Bitterness that your being born had done nothing to change that judgement.
“The barrier around the Lands, it isn’t a ward. Not in the way any Justrian magician would consider it. In the rest of the continent, mages have to hone their skills to tap into outside powers, right? There are all kinds of preparations and ingredients you have to use.”
Tim nodded, thinking of Babs’ countless mirrors, of Duke practicing carving charms into candles and crystals.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not like that in the here. Here the Lands Themselves are inherently magical. And that isn’t just hyperbole, or me speaking poetically. The Lands are Their own being, literally made of magic, and it is from Them that everyone else’s power comes. No one can scry over the borders because They don’t allow it.” Danny sighed.
“But my parents didn’t know that. They thought with the right spell, they could break the barrier, like any other ward. Eventually they were at the point of just trying to punch a big enough hole in it. They made an artifact that they thought could manage it. They had actually found a way to harness the ambient magic coming off the Lands, and made an artifact that carried more power than they had ever been able to generate before. But it didn’t activate for them when they tested it, so they brought it home. Without thinking to dispel the power before leaving it on the kitchen table.”
Danny smiled grimly. Tim felt cold as he saw the story folding out in front of him, with nothing he could do to stop it because it had already happened.
“They had pumped that thing full of enough magic to try and break an unbreakable ward. And all of it hit me at once the second I picked it up. Enough to kill me instantly and create Dan along with it.”
Tim’s heart hurt hearing Danny talk so clinically about something so horrific. And not just that, something so obviously traumatising.
Danny’s face was blank, and he wasn’t meeting either of their gaze’s, but he could see from the subtle shaking of his hands, and the look of open concern on Dan’s face that this was affecting him more than he wanted to let on. Tim didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help with this when he didn’t even fully understand it.
“But you survived, right?” He asked quietly, feeling like a kid asking if the story would have a happy ending. The feeling only worsened when Danny just offered him a grim smile.
“No, I died. Dan’s existence is enough proof of that. I just came back again after.” Danny glanced to the side again, avoiding their eyes.
“I don’t understand it completely. To be honest I don’t think it’s something that people can understand most of the time. But the power that- that killed me. It was power from the Lands. And the Lands have a will of Their own. For whatever reason, They decided They liked me and brought me back to life. And They gifted me with all of the power that had been stolen and pushed into the artifact, made it mine to control. I’m still not sure if that was supposed to be some kind of reparation or not, but its left me with more magic than I know what to do with, which is pretty nice even if I’m not often allowed to use it here.”
“Is that why…” Tim asked hesitantly, gesturing to his own eyes, thinking of the way Danny’s eyes would flare whenever he checked the wards. Danny nodded sombrely, resting his fingertips under one eye.
“Yes. The glow… it comes from the lands, it represents the magic it has gifted you. Bright green is most common, along with all the normal eye colours, and red is for magic related to the undead. So, both Dan and the wraiths have red eyes, as well as anyone who uses that kind of magic deliberately. Pariah’s eyes used to be green but turned red when he started creating wraiths. Anyone born here will have a little, and even if you aren’t, it can still build up enough to be visible over time. But for me… mine was gifted to me all at once. Got a lot of nice perks with it, it made me fluent in Ghost speech for one, but it also changed me. It wasn’t all because of the blessing, but I… I used to look very different before the accident. Enough that my parents didn’t recognise me when they saw me. They just recognised what Dan was and chased us out, assuming their son was dead.”
“They wouldn’t listen to you?” Tim asked hesitantly.
Danny chuckled ruefully.
“I was basically half dead at that point. It took the healers weeks before I could even stand on my own.” His expression sobered. “But Dan tried to tell them, that it was me, that I was still alive, and they didn’t listen. He ran when they started charging spells against us, managed to get me to Frostbite then vanished before I woke up. I didn’t see him again until they brought me here and I felt him in the dungeons.”
“You- you felt him?”
“Yeah,” Dan replied casually. “The whole being born from his death thing means that we get an automatic bond between us. From what I know, it’s pretty similar to what you probably have right now, not that I’ve ever experience that one.”
“It is.” Danny agreed. “And that kind of automatic bond is how I knew to help Elle when she was born.”
Dan frowned in confusion and Tim tilted his head.
“Who is Elle? You mentioned her earlier, with Jazz. You said she was involved in whatever it was that got you in trouble with the High Chief.”
“What?!” Dan shouted, “She’s who got you in trouble with Pariah?!”
Danny shook his head, holding his hands up peaceably.
“No, no, she didn’t get me in trouble, I got myself in trouble for helping her. As for who she is,” he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Dan. “Well, I suppose she’s our little sister.”
Notes:
WHOO! I get to drop this lore, and we have more coming next time. Also, Dan! My boy! Your tags are finally relevant! I really like the dynamic he and Danny have, it was very fun to write.
I swear, when I first wrote this chapter I got through like, three of the points I wanted to cover and was like, oh my god I feel like this is taking forever to write, what's going on here. And then I checked and blacked out and written like, over 6000 words in one sitting. So. I have a lot to say. This is what happens when I am given the chance to make up my own lore, who let me do this.
Jk, I'm having such a great time with this, and the whole story in general honestly, I really hope you are too :)
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