This is a DC (mostly Batman) version of Hayao Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle:
Featuring Tim Drake in the role of Sophie, Dick Grayson as Howl, Jason Todd as Calcifer, Damian Wayne as Markl, and a surprise cast featuring other Batfam members and associates.
Ok, so this is my very first Batman/Batfam fan fic ever so a lot of these characters are probably really OC. I'm relatively new to the comics, but I've seen a lot of the DC animated movies and series. Most of this fic is based off of the Movie version of Howl's Moving Castle directed by Hayao Miazaki, but quite a fair bit is also based off of parts of the book by Diana Wynne Jones. I hope I did a halfway decent job.
This is going to end up a Dick/Tim pairing, but for those of you who aren't into that sort of thing, don't worry. That's not going to happen for a long while yet. In fact, for the purposes of THIS fic, the romantic stuff is all going to be G and can probably be ignored for the most part and played off as brother-bonding (because it's Dick, right?). This is mainly T because of language.
Chapter 1: Introducing Timothy Jackson Drake
In the land of Dicomacs, where scientific and mechanical innovations such as the steam engine and skyplanes exist in a victorian-esque time alongside magic and legends, it is considered by many in the working class to be quite the misfortune if you are born either the eldest or the only child in a family. Being the eldest or only child meant that you were the one expected to carry on the family business.
Timothy Jackson Drake was one such child. He was the only son of Janet and Jack Drake, a couple of renowned explorers and archaeologists, who also owned a successful antique shop in Gotham that had been handed down from father to son for many generations. As the Drake family's only child and heir, Tim was destined to inherit it someday. It could be argued, however, that he had already become the owner of the shop by the time he'd turned 10. His parents were known for being away for months at a time, traveling abroad unearthing and collecting items to bring back home and sell in their shop. Because of this, Tim was rather lonely during the early years of his life until he started school and befriended two girls, Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown.
Cassandra Cain was a couple of years older than Tim and Stephanie, but she was in their year group at school due to her lack of English language skills. The older girl was from an unknown eastern country and had been left one night at a girls' home in Gotham at a young age without knowing any English. Because most of the girls at the home laughed at the funny way she spoke, Cassandra didn't talk much. She left all of that to Stephanie, who was a bright and outgoing sort of girl who had no qualms about filling silence with idle chatter.
Stephanie Brown was the daughter of a father who'd left home when she was really small and had never come back, and a poor mother who'd found work and lodging at the girl's home that Cassandra had been left in. Stephanie had found it sad that Cassandra didn't seem to have any friends at the home and had resolved to befriend her and teach her how to improve her English. She did much the same with Tim when the girls found him being teased by some bigger boys at their neighborhood market. They may have gone to different schools because they lived in different parts of Uptown Gotham, but they didn't let that stop them. After a time, Tim had helped Cassandra improve her English by leaps and bounds and with help from his parents, managed to help get the girls moved to his school on a scholarship program.
The only miscalculation on Stephanie's part when it came to her friends, was assuming that Tim had been a rather boyish looking girl and not a girlish looking boy, and had spent the greater part of the first month of their acquaintance thinking that Tim was a girl. Cassandra had been amused greatly when Tim found out and Stephanie realized their new friend was actually a boy. Not that it impacted or changed their friendship at all. If anything, it only strengthen it, becoming this obscure secret and joke between the three.
Unfortunately for Tim, being a boy did not deter his two friends in the slightest from dressing him up like a girl so that he could come over and visit them at the girl's home were no boys were allowed. He could only curse his mother's genetics for giving him such delicate features that only seemed to become more accentuated when he matured into a pretty little man instead of a big handsome one. The three of them grew up together as thick as thieves and for a long time, you would rarely find one without the other two nearby.
Unfortunately, like what happens to all children, they grew up, finished their schooling, and their lives started to point them in different directions. Just a few years before they'd ended their studies, everyone in Gotham had begun talking about the Witch of the Waste. It was rumored that she'd threatened the life of the King's son and that His Majesty had commanded his personal magician, Wizard Wayne, and one of his apprentices, to deal with the witch. According to rumor, it seemed that Wizard Wayne had not only failed to deal with the Witch, but had gotten himself killed and his apprentice crippled.
Not long after that, a tall dark castle had suddenly appeared on the hills above Gotham, blowing clouds of black smoke from its four tall turrets. Everybody was sure that the Witch had moved out of the Waste again and was going to terrorize the country like she had several decades ago. What made it all even scarier was that the castle did not stay in the same place. Sometimes the castle was a tall grey smudge on the moors to the northwest, sometimes it appeared downhill and sat just beyond the farthest farm to the north. It could be seen moving at times too, with smoke pouring out from the turrets in dirty gray gusts.
People got very scared at this phenomenon. Even Tim's parents were hesitant to leave Gotham to go on one of their trips. Nobody went out alone, especially at night. It became a regular occurrence for Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra to alternate between spending the night together at the Drakes' home above the antique shop and in their small shared room at the girl's home. They rarely separated.
But the castle stayed roving about the hills for the most part, and it was soon learned that it did not belong to the Witch, but to Wizard Grayson instead, who had started to garner his own fearsome reputation. Though he did not seem to want to leave the hills, Grayson was known to amuse himself by picking up young girls and eating their hearts. He was a cold-blooded and heartless wizard and no young girl was safe from him if he caught her on her own. Because Tim's parents had grown fond of Stephanie and Cassandra over the years they had often warned the girls (and Tim by association) to never go out alone.
They began to have other matters on their minds before long, however, when they reached the end of their schooling and Cassandra turned 18, the legal adult age. She was too old to be allowed to stay at the girl's home. Fortunately for Cassandra, Tim's mother had found the young woman an apprenticeship with a long standing client of their shop from Metropolis. Said client was a witch, but was considered one of the good ones and had a large clientele spanning all throughout the Royal City. Rumor had it that the woman was being considered for the position of court magician. Stephanie and Tim had been sad to say farewell to their friend, but the letters that they received weekly put them at ease.
Stephanie herself was the next to go. She'd wanted to move further into the heart of Gotham to seek out her own apprenticeship and for the following year, she'd regaled Tim with tales of the various positions she tried (and often failed) to take up.
That left Tim alone most of the time in his little home above his parents' antique shop on the outer parts of Uptown Gotham. After his friends had left, he took on more responsibilities at the shop. He became a bit of a loner and often isolated himself in the back room and that's where our story truly begins…
It was the first of May and Tim was polishing an old copper cooking pot. It was the last of many items that his parents had brought back home from their last trip to be sold in their little shop in Gotham. Undoubtedly they'd be home again soon with another trove of items that would need cleaning and restoring. Almost absently, Tim reached out with one hand to settle a vase that was in danger of toppling over when the train that ran by on the tracks behind the shop came rumbling by. Black smoke from the steam engine billowed out over the sealed window and blocked out the afternoon sunlight streaming in. After the train had passed, Tim removed his hand from the vase and put in one last effort to scrub the dirt that persistently clung to the inside of the pot. Once he was finished he rinsed the pot and buffed it until the copper shone. Satisfied, Tim admired his work in the light coming back in through the window.
Just as he put the pot down with the rest of the antiques he'd cleaned that morning, there was a knock at the backroom door. Looking up, Tim saw one of the shop assistants, Tanya Fox.
"Timothy, I've closed up the shop. You've done enough work," she said. "You should come out with us this time."
"That's quite alright, Mrs. Fox," Tim smiled back politely. "I just need to clean up and then I'll leave. You and the girls go on ahead and enjoy the festivities."
"Alright," Tanya said, looking hesitant. "If you're sure. Let's go girls," she called, addressing the other two that helped run the shop, her daughters Tamara and Tiffany.
"I'm ready," Tam said.
"Look! It's Grayson's Castle!" Tiffany suddenly gasped.
"What? Where?!" Tam cried, racing back across the room past where Tim could see her from the back room's doorway.
"Oh my. How close is it?" Tanya asked.
"I wonder if Grayson is in town," Tiffany said, sounding worried.
Tim looked out the window in the back room at the hills that could be seen outside of town leading up into the mountains. The clouds were hanging low today, but he could just make out a moving grey shape against them, disappearing into the white before some of the King's skyplanes flew by the spot.
"He's gone," Tam sighed.
"No, he's just hiding from those soldiers," Tiffany said.
"Say, did you hear about that girl, Kori, from Star City?" Tam asked. "They say Grayson tore her heart out."
"How scary!" Tiffany gasped. "Now I'm too scared to go out."
Tanya could be heard sighing as she tried to herd her girls out the door.
"Don't worry," Tam said to her sister. Tim could practically hear her smirk as they headed towards the front door. "He only preys on pretty girls. Especially redheads. It's a good thing you are neither."
Tiffany let out an indignant squawk.
"Alright, alright, let's go," Tanya huffed. "Have a good evening, Timothy!"
"And you as well," Tim called out. "Take care and say hello to Lucius and Luke for me!"
"Will do!"
After the three Fox women were gone Tim got off his work stool and stretched, feeling something in his back pop before he straightened and put away his tools and cleaning supplies. After that was done, Tim locked up the shop and exited his parents' store, looking up as more skyplanes flew overhead with fluttering banners and flags waving behind them. The first of May, May Day, had always been a cause for celebration, but this year it had been declared a special holiday in Gotham and most shops were closing early to see the King's soldiers parade through the city center before they were shipped off to fight in the brewing war between their kingdom of Dicomacs and the Eastern Empire ruled by Emperor Ra's al Ghul. Nothing serious had happened yet beyond a few minor skirmishes, but things had to have become really tense between the two kingdoms if the king was sending out a larger deployment of troops to support those he already had out east.
Tim hurried over the cobbled streets to catch the trolley that would take him into the heart of Gotham City. The inside of the vehicle was crowded and filled to capacity so when he stepped up onto the boarding step he thanked his lucky stars that he was still short and slim enough to squeeze into the doorway on the top step before the trolley departed. As the trolley made its way through busy streets Tim saw cleared under passes and lower roads where tanks rolled through under bridges. Main streets had people up on the sidewalks or in specially constructed stands while soldiers marched in formation or rode their decorated horses past the cheering crowds under confetti thrown by the people watching from the upper stories of the surrounding buildings.
After getting off the trolley, Tim moved away from the main crowds watching the soldiers. He instead ducked down parallel running side streets and alleys to make his way through the city faster since the main streets were clogged with traffic, cheering crowds, and parading soldiers. Once Tim was in the right part of the city, he pulled out his most recent letter from Stephanie. She'd moved into the central most part of Gotham to be closer to the newest job and apprenticeship she'd gotten. She'd sent Tim her new address as soon as she'd settled. He was unfamiliar with this area of Gotham, however, and as he wandered further into a residential area, he feared he was getting lost. He was so involved with his search, hoping to find the right address or at least a familiar sounding street to help orientate himself, that he hadn't noticed two soldiers approaching him until one spoke.
"Hey there. You look lost, little boy."
Tim tensed, staring up at them in a startled manner. It didn't help that they were both a good foot taller than he was, meaning he had to crane his head up to look them in the face. The first soldier was clean shaven with a sort of boyish and charming look to him. His companion was a little taller than he was and had a bushy mustache and more roguish look.
"No, I'm fine," Tim stammered, taking a step back.
"The kid looks thirsty," Clean Face said, leaning into Tim's personal space as Mustache moved closer, looking intrigued. "Would you care to join us for a drink? My treat."
"No thank you," Tim managed to say in a firmer tone. "I'm busy. My friend is expecting me."
"He's certainly a cute little boy," Mustache said. "Look at those baby blues."
Tim averted his eyes, flushing a bit. He wished for the millionth time that he'd inherited his father's more masculine looks instead of his mother's delicate features. Stephanie still teased him to this day about looking like one of the porcelain dolls his mother liked to display in the shop.
"How old are you?" Clean Face asked with a glint in his eyes that Tim didn't like. "Do you live around here?"
"Please let me pass," Tim snapped softly, taking a step back, bracing himself in case he needed to fight and flee. Damn soldiers. Cocky bastards thought they could do whatever they pleased because they were going off to war the next day.
"Aww," Clean Face said to Mustache. "See? You scare all the cuties. It's your mustache."
Tim scowled. He may have been small, but he was eighteen and he could handle himself. If those creeps took one more step he was going to show them just how "cute" he was.
"So?" Mustache smirked. "He's even cuter when he's mad."
"There you are!" someone cried happily from behind Tim. Tim nearly jumped out of his skin when an arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. "I've been looking everywhere for you! You got lost didn't you?"
Tim glanced up, surprised to see a handsome young man that looked like he was in his mid-twenties. He had flowing golden locks of hair and bright blue-grey eyes that reminded Tim of the Gotham sky on it's clear days.
"Who are you? We're busy here," Clean Face snarled at the newcomer.
"He's my friend," the beautiful man behind Tim said pleasantly. "And it looked to me as if you two were just leaving.
Tim wasn't completely sure what had happened next but in his peripheral vision he saw one of the mysterious man's fingers flick up and the soldiers snapped to attention. With a wave of his hand the two soldiers marched off with surprised shouts. Tim stared after them in amazed bewilderment. He jumped slightly when the arm around his shoulders pulled him closer into a sideways hug.
"So!" beamed the man he was mentally referring to as Goldilocks. "Now that those rude men have left, where can I take you? I'll be your escort this evening."
Tim felt himself blush. He probably should be scared of this guy - who was obviously a magician of some sort - but he felt no fear when he looked into that smiling face. He seemed earnest and kind, but all the same...
"Ah… no, that's… Not necessary," Tim stammered. "I'm... only going to the Birds of Prey..."
Goldilocks ignored his protest, however.
"Excellent! Oh, and don't be alarmed, but I'm being followed. Just act natural."
Tim stared but any further protests that he might have made were cut off as Goldilocks nudged him forward, arm still wrapped companionably around his shoulders.
They continued down the side street they were on for a few blocks before anything happened. Tim couldn't say how he knew that they had company because he hadn't heard anything. But he could almost sense other presences homing in on them with every step and he could swear that he saw dark shapes flitting about out of the corner of his eye.
"Sorry," his so-called "escort" said, not sounding sorry at all. "It looks like I got you involved."
No sooner had he said that, black figures seemed to seep out of the shadows ahead of them.
"This way," Goldilocks said calmly, sharply turning them down an adjacent alley. Tim's heart was thudding in his chest as they hurried down the alleys. He began to hope that they would escape when he saw a bright light coming from an opening onto a main street where a crowd of people were standing watching the soldiers parade through Gotham. But that hope was just as quickly dashed when more shadow men appeared in front of them. They were trapped!
"Hold on!" Goldilocks cried, his arm slipping down from around Tim's shoulders to his waist. With a little jump, Tim felt himself being yanked up through the air, high above the shadow men and over the rooftops where their ascent slowed to a stop and they hovered in the air. "Great! Now straighten your legs and keep walking."
Tim did as he was told, feeling as if his heart was in his mouth, as the arm around his waist slid up along the length of his arm to grip his hand. The man did the same on Tim's other side. Tim's eyes were wide open in shock and amazement and his brain struggled to reconcile with the fact they they were in the air. Walking! With the way the man was holding his hands, Tim felt like a child learning how to walk.
"See?" Goldilocks beamed at him as they strode through the air. "Easy! You're a natural."
Tim flushed at the praise, unable to keep himself from smiling. Goldilocks chuckled and squeezed Tim's hands encouragingly.
Down below, the central hub of Gotham City was spread out before them. Tim could now see the cafe that Stephanie had recently started working at from their vantage point as well as the crowded streets that were now filled with people dancing and sitting at tables eating food from the local vendors. There were no cries of surprise or panic as they "walked" through the open sky, descending towards a balcony above the Birds of Prey cafe. Goldilocks stepped down on the balcony railing and eased Tim down onto the deck, hands gentle and guiding, not letting go until Tim was steady on his feet.
"I'll make sure to draw them off," the man said in reference to the shadow men, smiling warmly at Tim. "Wait a bit until the coast is clear before heading out."
"Al… alright," Tim stammered, face flush with exhilaration. They'd just walked… in the sky!
"That's my Baby Bird," the man beamed once more before jumping backwards off the railing, his eyes never leaving Tim's until they fell out of sight beyond the balcony rail.
Alarmed, Tim gasped and hurried forward, but when he looked down he could not see the strange man anywhere in the crowd below him.
As he scanned the crowd below for the man, the sliding door behind him slammed open, making him jump. There was a girl dressed in the purple dress uniform that marked her as one of the Birds of Prey cafe workers.
"Sir! Are you alright?"
"Ah… yes," Tim said, shaking himself. "I'm… ah, here to see Stephanie Brown. Is she here?"
The girl stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before nodding. She waved him inside into the upstairs hallway and told him to wait there while she got Stephanie. Tim thanked her. As soon as she was gone, Tim's mind began to replay the last ten minutes in his head and tried to comprehend that he'd just skywalked to the cafe with a blond stranger. Had that really happened?
A couple minutes later he could hear the loud clack of heeled shoes clicking hurriedly up the stairs. Stephenie came barreling into view a second later, skirts whirling as she cleared the landing and raced to his side.
"Timmy!"
"Hey Steph," Tim said smiling weakly at her, still dazed from his encounter with the blond man.
"What's going on? Someone told me you just floated down onto our balcony!"
"That really did happen," he muttered. "It wasn't some kind of dream or hallucination."
Stephanie grabbed him by his shoulders and stared up into his face with concern. He was in shock, Tim realized numbly.
"Stephanie? Is everything alright?"
Both turned to see a tall blond woman standing in a doorway at the end of the hall.
"Miss Lance!" Stephanie exclaimed, smiling before glancing at Tim with obvious concern. "...I'm not sure."
The woman chuckled. "It's Dinah, Stephanie. Why don't you two use the office?"
"Thanks, but shouldn't I get back to work?" Stephanie asked, biting down on her bottom lip.
"Nonsense," Dinah said with a tone of finality. "Your friend looks a bit rattled. I can find someone to cover your tables while you two talk."
"But-!"
Dinah only gave her a stern look and glanced pointedly at Tim before descending the stairs, leaving the door to her office open.
A few minutes later Tim was finished recounting his tale to Stephanie inside Miss Lance's office. Apparently the woman was the owner of the cafe and the apartments above it.
"Wow!" Stephanie gaped. "He had to've been a wizard."
"...He must have been…" Tim mused. "But he was so kind. Nothing like what you normally hear about most magic users. He rescued me."
Well… kind of. Tim could have taken care of himself quite fine and even though the man had helped him out with those soldiers, he had gotten Tim mixed up in that mess with the shadow men.
"Of course he was being nice!" Stephanie cried. "He was trying to steal your heart. You're lucky the guy seemed to have other problems to deal with. If he had been Grayson he would have stolen your heart and eaten it!"
"No he wouldn't have," Tim snorted. "Grayson only does that to beautiful women."
"That is beside the point Timmy!" Stephanie scowled. "You know you're pretty enough to be mistaken for a girl. You need to be more careful. These are dangerous times, what with the war starting up with the al Ghuls. They say that even the Witch of the Waste is back on the prowl. If Cass were here she'd agree with me."
Tim only hummed in acknowledgement before standing up.
"I'd better be getting home now. It was good to see you again, Steph. I'm glad to see that you're doing well here. It's about time you found a stable job. Miss Lance seems like a good boss and mentor."
"She's great," Steph said with a grin. "She's also a fair landlady and is teaching me the ropes of running the bakery."
"Good to know," Tim chuckled as he gave her a hug.
"You could always come work here," she told him. "You'd make a cute waiter. Hell, you'd make a cute waitress. The girls and I would love dressing you up. It'd be like old times."
Tim rolled his eyes. "You're the reason my entire childhood was one big traumatic experience and my parents think I'm queer."
"Aren't you though?" Stephanie snickered before looking at him with a big pout. "Joking aside, seriously think about it, Timmy. You'd be away from your parents and not stuck in that dusty antiques shop anymore."
"I'm hardly stuck with them," Tim huffed. "Mother and Father are gone so frequently it's like I already own the place. And I'm their only son. Who else is going to run the shop while they're off traipsing around the world? Besides, Mrs Fox and her daughters help run the shop front and that allows me to work more in the back on the pieces that need restoring and cleaning up before they're put up for sale."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Steph scowled. "Tim, you've been one of my best friends since we were in Primary School. Cass and I know you don't like working there. Yeah, some of the antiques are neat, but do you seriously want to be doing that for the rest of your life? What happened to the boy that loved to sketch and paint and take amazing photographs?"
"He stopped wearing dresses and grew up," Tim said with a wry smile. "And I don't mind the work so much now with the Fox ladies' help. And anyway, I'd better be heading back now or I'll miss the trolley and won't get home before dark."
Stephanie stared at him worriedly before sighing and grabbing him up in one last hug goodbye.
"It's your life, Tim. Just be sure that it's what you want to be doing. Do something for yourself for once and take care. Screw what your parents think. If need be, I can write to Cass and we'll steal you away and go on adventures of our own while your parents mind the shop for once in their lives."
"Bye Steph," Tim huffed as he disentangled himself from her embrace and hurried away.
On the way home Tim made sure that he stuck to the main streets. Even though it took him longer because of the crowds he'd managed to get back home to the shop just as the sun was setting beyond the mountains. He locked the door behind him before lighting a lamp behind the counter at the back of the shop, but before he could round the counter and hang up his coat he heard the door's bell chime. Bewildered, Tim turned around to face a lovely woman with tanned skin and silky dark hair that was artfully piled on top of her head. She wore all black. Her dress clung to her trim figure beneath her fur coat like a second skin with a slit up the side that was cut almost inappropriately high up her thigh. She was a very classy looking woman.
"I apologize, Ma'am," Tim said in his most polite manner, "but the shop is closed. I could have sworn I'd locked that door."
The woman stared at him with an almost bored expression before looking around.
"What a tacky shop. I've never seen such worn and rusted trinkets."
Tim nearly bristled. His parents and their shop were known for their high end antiquities. It was a source of pride that his family relished. Even his Majesty, King Clark, had come to Gotham once to purchase a fabrashe egg that his parents had brought back from one of their excursions in the east. Such items were hard to come by these days since the war with Ra's al Gul and his Kingdom had begun, halting all travel and trade in the surrounding eastern countries.
"And yet," the woman continued, eyeing him up and down, "you are by far the oldest looking thing here."
Tim flushed, his hands fidgeting in the pockets of his worn grey trousers. He tended to dress more traditional and proper than most youths his age. He wore a dark red shirt that had been well pressed that morning and was buttoned all the way up to his collar beneath a grey waistcoat with brass buttons that matched his trousers. He also wore a black bowtie and faded brown loafers. His charcoal grey overcoat was still draped over his arm. None of them were anything close to the modern apparel most people wore these days. He didn't wear bright silk or satin dress shirts, or coats with tails, and his shoes were never the spiffy heeled and pointy toed atrocities that were currently in fashion for men's formal wear.
So yes, Tim's preferred clothing choices were certainly considered "old fashioned," but there was no need for this woman to be so dismissive of him because of it.
"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave now, Miss," Tim said stiffly, striding past her towards the door and held it open for her. "The door is over here. We're closed."
"Well aren't you a brave one? Standing up to the Witch of the Waste," the woman smirked.
Tim froze, eyes flying wide open upon hearing that name. He startled back when he saw two shadowy figures - more solid looking up close in the low light of the lamp - slip into the doorway, boxing Tim in between them and the witch. Tim's gaze darted back and forth between the witch and the shadow men before settling on the witch when she seemed to float into the air and fly at him at an alarming rate. He flinched back from her when she came upon him, but she only phased through him as if she were only a shadow like her minions.
Trembling, Tim turned to face her as she walked out the door.
"The best part about that spell is that you can't tell anyone about it," she informed him, glancing over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk. "My regards to Richard."
Tim stared after her in confusion as the Witch turned on her heel and the door clicked shut behind her.
Tim could only shake where he stood for a few minutes. Once his wits started to return to him, he glanced around the shop for any sign of the witch's shadow men. Finding none, he bent over to pick up his coat that he'd dropped in his fright. He paused halfway through the motion, once he caught sight of his hands. He stared in bewilderment and a growing sense of horror when he saw them. They were wrinkled with age with large veins and liver spots and knuckles large like knobs. His body suddenly began to ache when he straightened up. His hand then flew to his face and traced over soft leathery wrinkles and slightly loose skin. In a panic he hurried as fast as his suddenly achingly stiff legs and creaking joints would allow to an antique mirror hanging on the wall.
Instead of his face staring back at him, he saw a scared looking old man with deep lines etched into his face and a head of thinning white hair.
"Is that really me?" he breathed, reaching a hand out to touch the mirror. Every move he made the old man copied it.
Trying to reign in his building panic Tim turned away from the mirror and hobbled around the counter to leave the shop and head into the house upstairs. Climbing those stairs was an unbelievable trial. His body was aching even more than usual and he was out of breath by the time he reached the top. He made his way to his bedroom and began pacing after lighting his bedside lamp.
"You're going to be fine, Tim," he muttered to himself. "This is… just a bad dream… Right! Just a bad dream. You still haven't gotten up. What a story you'll have to tell Steph when you go visit her! Seriously! Skywalking with that wizard, and getting turned into an old man by the Witch of the Waste! Of course you're asleep. Just… Stay calm, Tim. This is all just a dream… Just a dream."
Tim comforted himself with that thought as he went through the motions of going to bed. He chuckled to himself as he slipped into his night shirt, realizing that it still fit. Had to be a dream. There was no way that Old-Tim would fit into the same clothes that Teen-Tim wore.
"Just a dream," Tim told himself as he sank into bed. "It'll all be over when you wake up…"
But it was not just a dream. Tim despaired when he woke up the next morning with the same aching joints he'd had when he'd gone to bed the night before. He stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror for a good while, not really paying attention to the time until he heard someone calling his name as they came up the stairs.
"Timothy? Timothy!"
Shit! His mother was home. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear his father's voice echoing up the stairs while Jack talked to the Fox women.
Janet Drake called out to him a few more times, knocking on his door before trying the locked handle.
"Timothy!"
"Don't come in!" Tim cried with a croak. "I… I've got a bad cold. I don't want you or Father to catch it."
He flinched at the sound of his voice. It was deeper and had more of a gravel tone to it than he was used to.
"You sound awful!" his mother's voice cried from the other side of the door. "Like some 90-year old man."
Tim snorted at the comparison. She wasn't far off the mark. He certainly looked 90.
"I'm just going to stay in bed all day," he informed her.
"...If you insist," his mother said slowly. He could practically hear the suspicion in her voice. Or maybe that was just his panic and paranoia talking. "Make sure you rest up. Your father or I will come up later with some lunch for you."
"Thank you," Tim called, waiting anxiously as her footsteps faded back down the stairs.
When he was sure that she was gone he looked back in the mirror.
"Well…" he sighed at his reflection. "It could be worse. You're still in decent shape for an elderly chap, occasional aches aside. You don't feel ill. At least you still have all your teeth and aren't bald yet."
He paused, listening to his mother and father talking to the Fox women about some artifact that they'd found somewhere out west.
Tim knew that he couldn't stay. His parents would discover him sooner or later and how was he going to convince them that he was their son? He was quick to pack a light bag. All of his clothes still fit him somehow, but he only took what he thought was necessary. He went out to the kitchen and packed a parcel of bread and cheese before sneaking out the back, heart hammering away in his chest the entire time, fearful that someone would discover him.
Luckily for him, it appeared that the store was quite busy that morning due to his parent's return and he met no one on his way out aside from a couple of men at the entrance to the alley that ran behind the store. Both men were reading the morning paper, however, and didn't notice him.
"Look at this!" one man was saying. "The Crown Prince is missing!"
"It was the al Ghuls wasn't it?" growled the other.
"I hope not," the first said. "This war will never end otherwise. Maybe he finally eloped with Lady Sandsmark."
That bit of news surprised Tim, but he didn't stop to inquire about it and hurried on his way. He'd heard a lot (of gossip) about Prince Conner from Tam and Tiffany. He was very well liked by the citizenry in general, much like his father. Tim hoped that the Prince was okay and that the papers were only stirring up more war propaganda.
He managed to make his way to the edge of the city, hoping to find a ride out into the country. He finally found a man and his son who were transporting bales of hay out to the local dairy farms. Tim sat himself on the back of the cart, thankful to be off his feet. By midday they'd made it out to a farm at the foot of the hills that lead up into the mountains where the Wastes were. Where the evil witches and wizards were rumored to dwell. The wagoner and the farmer tried to dissuade Tim against traveling further, but Tim remained steadfast. He'd resolved to track down the Witch of the Wastes or at least someone else just as powerful who might be able to change him back. If his efforts were in vain, Tim reasoned that he could at least make a life for himself somewhere.
The climb was tedious and because of his weakened strength and constitution, Tim had to make stops frequently to catch his breath. It was while he was taking one of these breaks that he stopped to eat lunch. His feet were killing him and he wished that he had a cane or at least a walking stick. As he finished eating his bread and cheese, Tim spotted a straight branch poking out of a nearby shrub.
"...That might make a good walking stick," Tim mused, grunting as he pushed himself back up onto his feet.
As he hobbled over he noted the size of it. It might be too big. Not to be discouraged just yet, however, Tim pulled on the branch and tried to wiggle it loose. His back ached with the effort he was putting into it, but Tim was determined now to get it free. That last shove had loosened it. Tim pushed down to try to pry the stubborn branch up one last time when it finally gave and thrust itself straight up. Tim, not expecting the sudden movement, jumped back in alarm, staring up at what had been on the other end of the stick. It was a scarecrow dressed in navy slacks, white gloves, a black suit jacket, yellow waistcoat, a red dress shirt, blue bowtie, and a beaten looking top hat set atop a children's football that had eyes and a mouth drawn on it for a head.
After looking the scarecrow up and down for a minute Tim frowned.
"How on earth are you standing on your own like that?"
Of course the scarecrow didn't answer him.
"...At least you're not upside down anymore."
Not wanting to dwell near the strange scarecrow longer than was probably safe, Tim hurried on his way again. He'd managed to get most of the way up the foothills by the time the sun was starting to go down. The downside was that it was starting to get cold and even with another coat to go over his current attire, he was still freezing. With a shiver he glanced back down at the city of Gotham that was still spread out before him. He knew he'd traveled a long ways, but the city was so expansive that it still looked like it was close by. Then he heard something from further down the path he was on. Glancing down he saw that blasted scarecrow he'd found earlier bouncing up the steep incline.
"Go away!" Tim shouted. "Don't follow me! There is no need to thank me. You don't owe me a thing. I'm sure you have a spell on you and I've had more than enough of witches and spells! Just go find some field and stand in it!"
The scarecrow paused, swaying on it's stick in the wind. Seeing it stop, Tim turned back around and continued his climb. He admittedly struggled up the steep incline, bowled over by the wind. He was so focused on not taking a tumble back down the path that he hadn't noticed the scarecrow following him again until it was right next to him. He glanced up just in time to see it tilt sideways a bit and deposit a cane he hadn't noticed that had been hanging on its arm. Tim stared in surprise at the black polished wood. The handle appeared to have bats etched on it. After picking up the cane and propping himself up with it, Tim realized that it was the perfect height for him.
"Thank you!" he said, smiling up at the scarecrow. "This cane is perfect. It's just what I needed. While you're being so helpful, maybe you could run off and find me a place to stay."
Tim had been joking, but the scarecrow jumped in place a couple of times before turning around and bounced off. Tim chuckled, wondering what on earth the story behind that football headed scarecrow was. Tim continued his climb, but after what felt like hours later - but was probably only a few minutes - he heard a low hum in the air. Glancing up he saw the sun reflect off the metal of an airship's hull before it disappeared behind the clouds. But it wasn't any ordinary airship.
"What is a battleship doing out here?" he wondered before a gust of wind hit him, chilling him to the bone.
He tried to go further but after a while he had to give up and sat with his back against the wind, huddling in his coats. After he caught his breath he caught a whiff of smoke. He perked up at the thought of a cabin and the possibility of a hot meal being nearby. Just as he was reaching the crest of the hill he'd spent the better half of the afternoon and the evening climbing he heard mechanical whirrs and clangs and steam hissing before a metal monster that looked like it was cobbled together with various building parts came lumbering up from the other side. And hopping in front of it was that damned scarecrow. When it saw Tim it hopped over, practically vibrating with pride at its find.
"You football head!" Tim squawked, recognizing the structure he'd seen occasionally roaming the hills from the back room window back at his parents' shop. "That's Grayson's castle! That is NOT what I meant when I asked for a place to stay!"
Of course the scarecrow didn't respond and only continued to sway happily in the wind as the huge hulking mobile home walked over them, it's belly high above their heads before coming to a stop. Tim couldn't help but gawk at the thing. It was massive and seemed to be a strange mash up of metal sheets, wood paneling, brick, stone, concrete and plaster. It's "legs" looked like metal plated chicken legs. The front had a face and as it had passed overhead it had looked distinctly frog like with chimney pipes for bulging eyes and a gaping maw with metal jaws, wooden teeth and a plated metal tongue.
"Would you look at that," Tim breathed, not sure if he should marvel at the amount of magic that it must take to hold something like that together, or be disgusted by the repulsive appearance. "They call this a castle?"
The structure shuddered above them for a moment before steam hissed out of various ports and it began moving again. Tim moved out of the way as a low hanging part of the structure at the back end of the "castle" moved towards them. After it passed, Tim noticed that it was a doorway with a bright lantern hanging over it.
The scarecrow bounced next to it, seeming to encourage Tim to hurry up and enter before the castle picked up speed and left him behind. Tim raced towards the moving door. He managed to grab hold of the railing on the step leading up to the door, but couldn't find the energy to hoist himself up.
"Hold on!" he huffed. "For heaven's sake! Are you going to let me on or not?!"
As if to answer him, the back door suddenly dropped and scoped him up onto the step. Tim scrambled to regain his feet and stood there for a moment panting against the door before finally opening it. Peeking inside he saw twelve steps that lead up to what appeared to be the main floor. It was dark inside except for a little light that came from what Tim assumed was a dying fire. Compared to the chilly wind at his back, the warm air wafting over him from the inside was nice and inviting. In that moment Tim didn't care that this was supposed to be the home of one of the most feared wizards in the kingdom.
He turned around, seeing that the scarecrow was still somehow keeping pace with the moving castle.
"It seems nice and warm enough inside. I'm going in. I'm sure that Grayson won't want to eat the heart of an old man like me. Thank you and take care, Football Head."
Tim waved as the scarecrow stopped keeping pace with the castle and gave a little bow, it's gloves seeming to wave in farewell.
Tim turned back around and entered the castle, shutting the door firmly behind him. He hobbled slowly up the stairs and glanced around nervously looking for any sign of Grayson. Seeing no one, Tim slowly made his way towards the dying fire in an open fireplace and the chair he could see set before it. Noting how low the fire was, Tim grabbed a couple of logs that he could see stacked beside the fireplace and set them on the flame. Glancing around Tim took in the dusty looking walls and the cobwebs coating the ceiling rafters. It looked like no one had bothered to clean the place in years even though there were many things crowding every available surface. There were strings of onions, bunches of herbs, and bundles of strange roots hanging from the exposed ceiling beams, and wizardly looking things cluttering the tables like leather books, crooked bottles filled with various colored liquids, and an old brown grinning human skull. It certainly wasn't what Tim pictured when he thought of what a castle might look like on the inside.
"At least it's warm," Tim muttered as he settled into the chair and promptly started to nod off. He was exhausted. He was beginning to see eyes staring back at him from within the fire.
"I don't envy you, Gramps. That is quite the spell you're under."
Tim jerked awake at the sound of another voice, eyes falling to the fireplace that most certainly did have eyes - bright green ones - and a wavering red mouth that flickered as it "spoke".
"You're gonna to have a hard time breaking that one."
"The fire talked," Tim gasped, tensing.
"Let me guess," the fire said in a lazy tone. If Tim didn't know any better, he'd say that the fire was smirking. "You can't even tell anyone about it."
"...Are you Grayson?" Tim asked.
"Ha!" the fire barked, colorful sparks issuing from it's mouth and a flicker of a white tongue of flame danced over its eyes. "He wishes he was as awesome as me. I'm the fire demon, Jason!"
"A fire demon?" Tim repeated in awe, leaning forward a little. "Can you break the spell I'm under?"
"Sure," Jason said, flames flickering in a delighted fashion, obviously loving the attention Tim was giving him. "If you break the spell that's keeping me here I'll break the spell that's on you. A fair and equal trade."
Tim hummed a little as he leaned back in the chair. Now that the initial excitement of meeting an actual fire demon had worn off, Tim remembered hearing how crafty and untrustworthy demons were. Making bargains with them was very dangerous.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Tim asked suspiciously. "You promise to help me if I help you, but can you keep that promise?"
"Demons don't make promises," Jason huffed, a puff of smoke floating up the chimney.
"Then I guess you'll have to find someone else," Tim shrugged.
"Oh come on!" the fire demon cried. "You should feel sorry for me! I'm an exploited demon! That spell keeps me fastened to this hearth and I can't stir so much as a foot away from it. Grayson treats me like I'm his slave. It burns me up! I'm forced to do most of the magic around here. I have to maintain the castle and keep it moving and do all the special effects that scare people off, as well as anything else Grayson wants. Do you realize how much work that is?! Grayson's quite heartless, you know."
"Sounds rough," Tim allowed, feeling a tiny twinge of sympathy for the demon. It had to take an awful amount of power to keep the hodge-podge castle together, let alone moving. "Don't you get anything out of this contract at all?"
"I wouldn't have entered into it if I didn't, Gramps," Jason said, practically pleading, his eyes flashing a sad looking green. "But I wouldn't have done it if I'd known what it would be like. Listen, if you can figure out the contract I have with Grayson, then you can break the spell! After that, then I can easily break the spell that's on you!"
Tim hummed. Jason had to be very powerful if he was able to power the castle. He supposed that it made sense that his powers would be inhibited by such duties so of course his spell would have to be broken before he could break Tim's curse.
"Alright," Tim sighed. "If you agree to break the spell on me."
"Done!" The fire demon cheered, his flaming body sparking and leaping gleefully up the chimney. "I'll break your spell the instant you break my contract!"
"Then tell me how to break it."
Jason's flames dimmed a bit and his green eyes looked away.
"I can't," he sighed. "Part of the contract is that neither Grayson nor I can say what the main clause entails."
Tim pursed his lips, frustrated, and feeling as though he'd been tricked. Jason crackled guiltily before speaking up once more. "Now don't be hasty, Gramps. You can find out what it is if you watch and listen carefully. Please, just try. The contract isn't doing either of us any good in the long run. I swear I keep my word. The fact that I'm stuck here shows that I do."
"But if I have to watch and listen, that means that I have to stay here in Grayson's castle," Tim said with an uneasy feeling growing in his gut. "What possible excuse can I give for doing that?"
"We'll think of something. Grayson is pretty useless at most things. In fact," the demon said, sounding amused, "he's too wrapped up in himself to see beyond his nose half the time. We can deceive him - as long as you agree to stay."
"Very well," Tim murmured, feeling himself slipping into sleep. "I'll stay. This place is disgusting, though. It needs a good cleaning."
"Then maybe you should become our new cleaning lady," Jason cackled.
"Not a girl," Tim grumbled before falling into a deep sleep.
Well, that's chapter 1. I hope to post chapter 2 soon, but we'll see. seems to hate me right now at it took me forever just to upload this chapter.
But look forward to it all the same because Damian is coming! :D
Ok, so I've obviously taken a lot from the movie, but a lot comes from the book too and I hope that flushes out more on the character backgrounds in this story, especially concerning our favorite Robins. If you guys haven't read the book version of Howl's Moving Castle, you're missing out. It is such a fun read and is actually the first book of three that take place in the same magical world. If this fic gets a good reception, I might just expand upon this universe and maybe write the other two books as well. :)
Fun Facts:
Dicomacs - DC Comics I know, it's a horrible, terrible pun.
Football Head - I didn't want to use Turnip Head, so I changed it and made a Charlie Brown reference. :P