I do not own Gotham nor Batman nor Alfred nor anything else belonging to DC.
I do however own this AU and all the world-building contained therein.
Chronologically speaking, this is the first of the series. I hope you enjoy it!
Brutus scowls at the clothes Alfredos had laid out for him. He turns the glare upon his steward, who is unaffected. "I realize, Master Brutus, that merriment and general enjoyment of yourself are against your wishes, but it would cause quite a scandal if you could not be bothered to make appearances at such an important festival, particularly when a masque has been commissioned for you."
His glare darkens and he feels a surge of frustration and anger. "And who was it who commissioned such a spectacle." He growls and turns his back as Alfredos bows his head.
"Your forgiveness, Master Varius, but there would have been great suspicion had you not sought such entertainment. I overstepped my bounds, but it was necessary."
Brutus snarls a little as he strips off his day shirt and pulls the finer tunic of green velvet with black silken trim that Alfredos had chosen. "You did overstep. Greatly. Do not do so again." He brushes aside a twinge of guilt and ignores Alfredos' murmured apology. "Now I must waste many days on these revelries while the shadows advance unchecked."
"If it please my lord," Alfredos says, handing him his breeches. "Should you be seen to overindulge tonight, there will be little wonder should you remain abed into the next night."
Brutus nods shortly, considering. "I shall need to be present tonight and shall not be able to leave once the great fires are lit. If I retire at midday tomorrow I shall not be missed until well past moonrise." He makes a harsh sound deep in his throat. "Why do we even continue such a festival? Few other realms hold observances of the Solstice, and none of those that do draw them out a full se'en day. Not in all my travels have I found another people who so stubbornly cling to old superstitions."
"It is a time to celebrate life and light, Master Varius." Alfredos says softly, fastening his long, furred cloak about his shoulders with the silver pin bearing the House crest that had once belonged to his father. "Perhaps these dark lands could stand a bit more revelry of that sort. It plays its own part in beating back the darkness."
"In ages past, perhaps." Brutus says shortly, pulling on his boots. "It has been far too long since it was more than an excuse for debauchery and depravity."
A near-silent huff lets him know Alfredos' opinion of that but he ignores it. He is not blind to the way the elderly steward has hovered more and more these past months, even daring on more than one occasion to voice his concern at how deeply Brutus is devoting himself to the fight. Neither is he unaware of the gossip among the courts, of how Lord Varius is seen less and less outside the walls of his keep. But it is so much easier to remain in the shadows and continue the fight without emerging. So often he finds himself considering the possibility of doing just that. Giving up the prince for The Bat in truth.
It is not as if there is anything to keep him here.
*JLA*JLA*JLA*
So tangled within his thoughts is he that he does not register the passing of time until the sounds of the city break into the carriage as they pass through the gates.
Vendors hawking their wares, musicians on every corner, cries and shouts from one person to another. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, sinking into a meditative exercise he learned while he was with The League. This is yet another obstacle to be overcome. Another battle to be fought.
A pointless battle. The Bat growls. No true purpose, merely distractions that waste time and energy.
The carriage comes to a halt before the Courts and Lord Varius disembarks as soon as a groom opens the carriage door. He is aware of Alfredos dismounting the box seat and following behind him as the groom swings up and takes the carriage into the stable yard behind the Courts. He strides up the steps and begins the duties of interacting with the prominent citizens gathered.
Lucanus Marcius, head of the Council, is the first person of any true consequence that he encounters. They exchange polite greetings and Marcius pulls him aside. "It has been more than a fortnight since we last received any word from you, and longer still since you have come to the Courts."
Brutus gives a loud, long laugh, clapping Marcius upon the shoulder with perhaps more force than necessary. "Ah, you know how it is Lucanus! Time never does stand still!"
His boisterous, nearly indecent behavior garners him a few uncomfortable looks and a judging glare from the elderly lady seated in state beneath the shelter of a brocade pavilion in the atrium, flanked by two men past their prime. It is the matter of only a few steps to reach her side and he bows over her hand, adorned only with the signet ring of her house.
"Honored Grandmother, well met."
Elisheva, Dowager Princess of the house Caelinus (or, as they referred to themselves still, the Tribe Sh'niyut) born into House Achinoam, mother of Marni, Brutus' mother, merely presses her lips tightly together and barely nods in acknowledgement. "Grandson."
Brutus straightens and gives the two men a courteous salute. "Uncles."
"Nephew."
He thinks that his Grandmother may again be prepared to bring up the topic of marrying him off, but he is saved by the arrival Lord Octavius, prince and last surviving member of the House Copus. They have met many times before. Under both similar and...very different circumstances. The man puts Brutus in mind of that despicable peacock that lives in the terraces of his mother's gardens. The fowl is certainly sent by the Darkness itself and has been attacking him from nowhere since his mother first acquired it when he was a child of five years.
When he returned from his travels to find the bird still living he had asked Alfredos how much longer it was likely to remain with them and had been horrified to learn that it's kind were known to live up to forty or fifty years under good conditions. He is quite certain that the thrice damned creature will perch on his monument stone someday in triumph.
As Copus, who remains in society only by virtue of his birthright, greets Lady Elisheva with effusive flattering and unsubtle preening, Brutus slips away and manages to find a bevy of young women, who are certainly not among this gathering because of their Houses.
He has a role to play.
So, funny story, this AU began with a 200 word scribble of worldbuilding (Titles) somewhere between 2:00-3:00 AM one night. It has exploded somewhat since then and now, some two years later almost, is finally beginning to settle into a set form.
Please let me know what you think!
Reviews eagerly anticipated, flames shall be ignored. Constructive criticism is welcome but immature griping reflects poorly on the reviewer. Don't be that reviewer, please.