Once upon a time, there lived two kingdoms. One basked in the rays of the sun, and their skin darkened to match the ground that they ran upon and that grew their crops. The other lived in shadows under the light of the moon and they were as pale as the stars they so admired.

These two kingdoms were divided by a wall erected by their ancestors after a bitter and centuries long war, by the ancient kings when they could no longer bear the bloodshed of their people. They sealed the moon on one side and the sun on the other, and so it was meant to stay.

And, once upon a time, there lived a boy with skin as dark as copper and eyes as green as the grass that covered the rolling hills of his home. His hands were worn from weapons and his tongue was as sharp as a blade, and he was the prince, the grandson of the king. One day he went to the wall and went into a small hole in the wall, where he met a boy with a face as white as the clouds, hair as dark as night, and eyes the color of the summer sky; the young prince of the moon kingdom.

The sun prince adjusts the hood of his cloak as he hurries through the forest, feet silent on the leaves below him, the wall looming ahead of him, gray and foreboding as always. He ignores it, as he has since he was merely five, and climbs into the tunnel, breathing a little easier as he puts the stone back up behind him before turning around.

He takes a step back. There's a boy here, with skin as pale as milk and eyes wide.

"Who are you," the sun prince demands, hands twitching towards the poisoned daggers hidden his sleeves, and the moon prince blinks.

"I could say the same to you," he replies, and the sun prince scowls.

"I asked you first," he snaps, and the moon prince frowns.

"I am the prince of the Moon Kingdom. I've never seen anyone like you before," the moon prince says, and the sun prince settles his hand on his thigh, where his sword was held.

"I've never seen anyone like you before," the sun prince says imperiously, and they stared at each other, surprise in their eyes.

"So who are you," the moon prince says curiously when he could stand the silence no longer.

The sun prince stands straighter. "I am the prince of the Sun Kingdom," he proclaims, and the moon prince grins, his teeth white as the foam that crashed onto the shores.

"We're both royalty," he laughs, and the sun prince gives a small smile at his childishness.

"I suppose so," he says with a sigh, and crosses his arms. "But why are you in the hole in the wall?"

The moon prince shrugs. "I was tired of everyone treating me differently. This has been my safe place for a few years now. You?"

The sun prince sighs. "I am the same. Only I did not want to do my ceremony that declared me an adult."

The moon prince blinks. "But you can't be more than twelve!"

"I'm thirteen, thank you," the sun prince says sharply. "And to be fully recognized as an adult and a heir to the throne it has to happen."

"We don't do that until we're seventeen," the other exclaims, shock evident in his face. The sun prince opens his mouth to reply when -

"Sire," calls two voices at once, and the two princes start, glancing over their shoulders.

"Want to meet again," the moon prince asks, catching the sun prince's hands in his own and leaning close.

The sun prince looks anxiously behind him but nods. "Yes. I do."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

With that, they go back to their respective kingdoms, minds swirling with images of the boy from the kingdom that is not theirs to rule.

The moon prince groans as his advisor grabs his wrist as they go back to the palace, the moon shining overhead and hitting the silver and iron perfectly. Normally, the moon prince would smile at the sight of it, because it is truly a beauty, but now he only frowns it. The sun prince - and how odd is that, for him to meet the prince of the sun - is so different to everything he has ever known, and the novelty of the palace had worn off next to the boy with brown skin and eyes as green as the poisonous flowers that flourish under the moon.

"You know better than to run off," his advisor scolds heatedly, and the moon prince grimaces. Yes, he did, but if he didn't sneak out he wouldn't have met the sun prince, so he can't really regret it.

"Sire," says a maid with eyes the color of crystals as she sweeps into a bow. "Your parents are waiting inside."

"Thank you," the moon prince says, taking a deep breath before opening the doors.

"My son," his mother cries out, and he braces himself for the hug.

In the end, he doesn't have to, because all she does is cradle his face in her hands and look at him.

"What were you doing, sneaking out like that," she demands, painted lips curving downwards, and the moon prince laughs uneasily, wrapping a hand around her wrist loosely.

"I was just...I wanted a break," he says, and it's the truth but it won't be tomorrow. The knowledge sits heavy in his stomach, but the thought of seeing the sun prince again, of getting the opportunity to learn how those who sleep under the sun live is much too tempting to pass up.

"My little star, if you only said so," his mother begins and a large hand touches her shoulder lightly, drawing her short.

The moon prince looks up as his father steps forward, the cape attached to his shoulders - he was seeing court today, the prince thinks absently - swishing around his feet. "Son," he says, voice deep and echoing around the throne room. "Do not do that again. You had the whole kingdom worried."

The prince averts his eyes, gazes down at his feet in shame, even as his plans for the next night curl up in his heart, makes him start to smile in excitement.

He's drawn into a hug, his father's hands on his back as his mother joins in. "You're young," his mother says quietly. "You want freedom. I understand. But please just tell us next time."

The prince nods, wondering if the sun prince can feel pain like him, if he truly wears a glamour.

He doesn't think so. The prince can feel magic, can taste it as lightning on his tongue, and he didn't sense any on the other prince.

"Of course," he says instead, and his father squeezes him one more time before letting go.

"It's late," his father offers. "Why don't you head to bed?"

The moon prince leaps on the chance, nods as he inches away. "I am tired," he agrees. "I will go to bed now."

"What about dinner," his mother asks, and the prince thinks fast.

"I'm not hungry," he says, and runs out of the room, a bright grin creeping up his face as he closes the door behind him.

Tomorrow, he sees the sun prince again. It's going to be fantastic.

The sun prince bites his lips as his grandfather stands, and he feels the weight of his inheritance more than ever, the weight of the crown that will be placed on his head within months.

"So," his grandfather says, dangerously quiet, and the prince flinches minutely but refuses to step back. That's weakness and weakness is never tolerated within the court. "You snuck out."

"Yes, Grandfather," the prince manages, and pain blooms across his cheek as his king slaps him. His head snaps to the side, the silence reigning making the sound play over and over again.

"Why did you sneak out," his king asks, and the prince takes a breathe to center himself.

"The pressure was great," he answers, unwavering under grandfather's disapproval. "I wished for a break."

The gold of his grandfather's crown shines and the copper walls do the same. It's all an illusion, one of kindness and warmth. The palace is anything but kind.

"If you want a break so fiercely," his grandfather says, smooth as silk, "then you shall stay in your room for a week with no company."

The prince's heart skips a beat. That means he could sneak out and meet the moon prince. "Yes, Grandfather."

"Make yourself scarce," the king sneers, and the prince does exactly that, wondering if the other prince has blistered fingers under his silver gloves, if he was using glamour to hide his golden irises.

Tomorrow, he sees the moon prince again. He will learn what is the truth and what is only of legend. It's going to be enlightening.

The next day, with the moon and sun high in the sky, the two princes carefully drew runes on their skin to make them unnoticeable, drew their cloaks upon their backs, and headed down to the wall, nervous and excited in equal measure.

The sun prince got there first, closing the entrance behind him and dispelling the magic lingering on his skin with a small burst of concentration. He waits for his fellow royal, idly scraping at the brick below him. He can feel the ancient magic pulsing around him, above him, in his very bones, and thinks, with some degree of scholarly fascination, of the layers and intricacies that the kings would have placed. They used regular brick, after all, but imbued each stone with powerful and lasting magic.

It tastes like sugar and it hurts his teeth.

"Hi," comes a young voice, and the sun prince looks up, startled, and the moon prince grins. It's as blinding as the sun, and the sun prince wonders just how that is when the moon prince has never seen the sun.

"Hello," he says in return, and watches as the moon prince wipes away ink on his hand and pushes a stone to cover his opening. The moon prince tears back his hood, shaking his head like a dog, and the sun prince remembers the myth of about those who live in the night, about how their hair was filled with clear poison. He reaches out and touches the moon prince's hair, expecting to die.

The moon prince stops, staring at him, and the sun prince doesn't die. He blinks. "Huh," he says finally, and looks at his hand. There's certainly something clear on it, but it's merely water.

"What was that about," the moon prince asks after a moment, and the sun prince wipes his hand on his pants.

"I've heard a myth where those who live in your kingdom have poison in their hair," he replies, and the moon prince laughs.

"And I've heard stories about how your veins are black from the magic you used in the war," he says, and the sun prince grins slyly, pushing up his sleeves to show his veins.

"It seems that we've debunked two legends," he says, and the moon prince laughs again, sitting down beside him.

"So it seems," he says. The magic inside him bubbles and stretches like bubble gum.

The sun prince's teeth ache.

"How do you do magic over there," the moon prince asks, and the other pulls out a dagger.

"The runes are different than the ones we used when the wall was put up, but they have the same base," he says, and watches as the moon prince's eyes grow wide. "So this one means death, and this one means water. So when you put this dagger into water and activate the runes with a little bit of magic, you can poison the water and kill anyone who drinks it."

"Oh, wow," the moon prince breathes, reaching out to trace the runes carved into the blade. "That's really cool!"

"But that's just with runes. With us, we're trained to do spells without speaking, to do magic as easy as breathing and to just imagine it. Of course, you have to twist the magic around you and inside you to make it happen, but," he sun prince shrugs. "It's useful, especially when you're an assassin."

The moon prince wrinkles his nose at the mention of death but nods with an enthusiastic smile stretching on his lips.

"With us, we have to say words. It can be anything, but as long as you remember what you said the first time you did the spell, you can do it. Our magic latches onto the words and makes them, well, magical. Of course, you have to put your magic behind them to make them work, but," the moon prince stretches his arms above his head. "It's effective and distracts your opponents because they're trying to figure out what spell you've called forth."

"Really?" The sun prince blinks a bit, imaging a world where you had to say words to use your magic. "That sounds cumbersome."

The moon prince shrugs. "It kinda is, but it's mostly fun. I know a few kids that have their fire spell be something like you moron." His lips twists into a mild grin. "Mine's I'm trying." With that, a small fire crackles to life in his palm, the light throwing his face into shadows. The sun prince flashes a smile and lights his own, and soon the two fires are leaping happily towards the roof of the little cave they created.

The moon prince lays down after mumbling a spell to keep oxygen in the air, propping his head up on his arms and gazing at the other prince. "What's your mom like," he asks, a merry twinkle in his eyes, and the sun prince stops tracing runes onto the walls.

"My mother," he says slowly, thinking hard on just how to describe her. "My mother is overwhelming. She's deadly and fierce and her magic is like a snake. It coils around you and tightens and bites, and if she wants you dead, you're hitting the ground before you realize it." He smiles faintly. "She has long hair that reaches her back and she wears it free, not caring if she's in a fight. My mother can fill up a room and fade away a moment later. She's the perfect image of an assassin, of the model daughter. I'm not sure why she's not the heir."

"Who's in charge?"

"My grandfather. I suppose she told him she wanted to lead the armies when she was little and he made it so. She's always been his favorite." The sun prince's lips twitch up. "So I'm stuck with the crown."

The moon prince blows out a breath at his little fire, giggling when it leans away. "My mother was a commoner, but she worked at a high position which is where she met my dad. Only my granddad was in charge at the time and my dad was a recluse so she didn't know he was the prince. They met, became friends, and a few years down the line fell in love. When he brought her to meet his dad she nearly fainted. She didn't, but she smacked my dad upside the head. They got married and now she's the queen and somehow has a better grasp on politics than my dad."

The sun prince huffs out a laugh. "That's not surprising. I myself have a hard time not understanding why I can't just stab the annoying politician in the throat when he's trying to trick me."

The moon prince flat out grins at that. "My dad's advisor has the same problem. He used to be the commander for the armies before my dad asked him to be his advisor."

The sun prince gives him a decidedly odd look. "He asked a soldier to be his advisor," he asks incredulously, and the other laughs.

"Hey, at the time he was the smartest guy in the kingdom and my dad's best friend. My dad knew he was the best choice because he was knew the law inside and out. He was a detective before he was a soldier and was called the best. It's not surprising that my dad asked him to be his advisor."

The sun prince shifts so that he's laying down on his stomach in front of the moon prince. "My grandfather has no advisor. He thinks that he can make all the decisions himself, and he can. He's never made a mistake that he couldn't turn into a victory." He sighs and makes his fire change into the shape of a cat - his cat, to be precise. "But I don't think I can do that. All I seem to do is make mistakes."

The moon prince nudges him. "Hey, as far as I've seen, you've made good choices."

"You've never seen me at my home," the sun prince says waspishly, and the other grins.

"I don't have to," he says cheerfully. "You seem like a nice person, and nice people generally make good ones."

The sun prince rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, sire."

His companion shoves him, laughing as he flails around, the fire cat jumping around him. "Don't call me that," he complains. "I came here to escape that word!"

"What, sire," the sun prince teases, and scoots away as the moon prince yells wordlessly, shaking his arms at him.

"Yes," the moon prince shouts angrily, exasperation clear on his face, and the other prince snorts at it.

"Oh, I'm sorry sire," the sun prince says, and the other jumps to his feet, takes a step and -

Falls flat on his face.

"Ow," he says plainly, and the sun prince bursts out laughing.

He can't remember the last time he laughed this much, he realizes, and as the moon prince picks himself up, cradling his nose and glaring death at his cloak - which he tripped on - and his laughter quiets as he stares. In court, you were only allowed the laughter of the polite and even then it needed an edge of danger, the whisper of I can kill you in an instant.

This - this isn't like that. It isn't even close. It's happy and unrestrained and he can't believe that he's doing it. He can't believe he's laughing this way, so close to his family, so close to those who could snap his neck if it meant a leg up, but then the moon prince turns his glare onto him, and it dies down a bit.

His nose is red and crooked, and the sun prince reaches out with a glowing hand, wishing, wanting to heal, and his magic does just that. It's done in an instant, and he waves away the blood. It gathers into a ball that spins lazily, and he banishes it to the river in the forest.

"Thanks," the moon prince says, giving him a smile that's completely genuine, and the sun prince is thrown by it. You don't give smiles away unless it has the tail end of a blade.

But...it isn't that way, for the moon prince, and he's suddenly consumed with the desire to see the way he lives.

"Anyways, my dad is a complete ditz at times," the moon prince starts, and the sun prince blurts out -

"My name is Damian."

The moon prince blinks at him, and Damian fidgets. You don't tell anyone your name unless you trust them because names have power, and it itches at him, that this is something to lord over him, but -

But the other is already grinning, his eyes crinkling as he answers with , "I'm Jon! Jon Kent."

It's as though they're commoners, Damian thinks with amusement.

"Damian al Ghul," he says instead, and watches as the grin gets impossibly wider and brighter.

"Nice to meet you," Jon says joyfully, and reaches out a hand. Damian stares at it, confused, because with that he could break Jon's hand five different ways. Jon rolls his eyes. "You shake it, duh!" He grabs Damian's hand, shaking it firmly and swinging it every which way, and Damian looks at him in shock.

Nobody else has been this - this gleeful in his presence, this carefree at Damian's face, and he finds himself smiling too. "Nice to meet you," he parrots, and Jon let's go, resuming his tale.

"So my dad is such a forgetful person that one day..."

Damian merely leans against the inside of the wall and watches.

(When they leave, Damian can't help but ask, "Are we friends," and waits in silence, anxiety making his heart beat faster, because he thinks they are, but he's never had a friend before.

Jon only grins. "Of course!"

Damian relaxes and waves goodbye as he leaps out, tracing the runes on his skin and bringing them to life with a surge of magic that whirls around him.

He thinks that he rather likes having a friend.)