Ra's al Ghul was not a patient man. He was far from the kind of man that would make a great teacher. When his students did not catch on easily, he became frustrated, demanding to know why this act that was so easy for him was so damn complicated for them. Bane had hoped that, because the student in case was his only daughter, he might somehow develop some patience for Talia's sake. But, as he sat waiting behind the doors of the training room, he knew that nothing had changed.
The sound of moving feet, clacking of wooden practice poles, and labored breathing met the giant's ears as he rested his head back on the wall, eyes closed. He imagined his Talia, hair messily strewn across her face, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as she desperately tried to keep up with her father. Her feet made much lighter sounds than her father's, and he heard hers moving twice as often. She's on the defense.
Click.
Clack.
The next sound that he heard was not wood on wood, but wood on flesh. The hiss he heard escape Talia's mouth indicated that she was the one who had taken the blow. Bane winced, as if the pole had struck him directly in the side. He swore he could feel her pain.
Bane hated the daily training sessions Talia had with Ra's. Each time he sat down to wait, the dread coiled in his stomach before they even began to warm up. He knew Talia was a quick learner, by far better than half of her father's men at hand-to-hand combat, but Ra's expected her to be perfect. Lately, much to his dismay, her practices had ended more and more with her injured. Each day after practice he would lead her to his room and fix everything that he could, watching her sad eyes as she stared into the corner. When he offered a word of praise she would shrug it off. "Father says I am not fast enough yet." She would answer quietly, and Bane would feel his blood boil. Didn't this man see what he was doing to his daughter? His angel?
"Talia, for the last time, keep your head up!" Ra's al Ghul's voice was muffled, but Bane could easily pick up the anger in it.
The clacking resumed again and Bane listened closely. They had been at it for almost half an hour, and Ra's had not let up on her once. He was in a particularly foul mood today for some reason, and was seemingly taking it out on the girl. The thought of him using Talia as a proverbial punching bag made his breathing quicken and his hands clench. Had this girl not gone through enough hell in her short life? Did he have to keep pushing her, keep reminding her that she was not as gifted as he had hoped she would be?
Bane stood up and began pacing in front of the door, nerves on edge. Talia was in a situation that could potentially harm her. Training or not, it still made the protective side of him go into overdrive, and all that crossed his mind was getting her out of there, away from him, somewhere where they could be alone and he could remind her of how wonderful and beautiful and smart she was. She was his rock, his best friend, his soul, and he could not stand by and watch her be broken like a common soldier.
He had noticed the change in her attitude within the last month. When Ra's came back from his mission, his mind hissed to him. Yes, it had started since her father had returned. Normally she was a happy girl, always by his side. He was her guardian, and it was his job to escort her wherever she went. He loved his position, as it meant she was at his side almost all the time. It reminded him of their time in The Pit, when all they had in the world was each other. Now, they had all the food and water they could ever want, plus beds, clothing, medicine, and the wide open country. For some reason, he thinks, maybe they were happier there.
The movement inside the room breaks his concentration and he stops pacing, wanting to hear everything that is going on.
"Talia, you are wasting my time. Did you do nothing while I was away?" The practice pole smacks to the ground and bounces, before rolling away.
"I…I practiced every day, father." Talia answers breathlessly. The sound of her voice soothes Bane. She is alive, she is okay.
"You are still at the same level you were two months ago! Your speeds, your agility, your strength…none of them have improved! Let me just demonstrate what could happen if this was a real battle. Maybe reality will help you. Put the pole down. Get your hands up."
His voice is menacing. Bane puts his hand on the doorknob. He is ready, one sound of Talia being hurt and he will be by her side, protecting her from the next blow.
He hears Ra's grunt and his heavy feet move quickly. Talia's feet move just as quickly. A brush of fabric, a soft cry…
A loud snap.
The sound seems to echo, and even though he is behind a wooden door, Bane feels as though whatever broke was right up against his ear. He panics and throws the door open. Please, don't let it be her neck.
She is sitting on the floor, legs under her. Her left arm is gingerly reaching towards her right arm, which is bent between the wrist and the elbow at an unnatural angle. Bane is by her side in moments, whispering to her not to touch it, not even to look at it. Her eyes are glassy and her mouth slightly open. She is in shock he realizes, as he looks up at Ra's al Ghul for the first time upon entering the room.
He is standing not ten feet away, watching the scene unfold. His daughter, staring down at the arm he just snapped in fascination, her friend from the pit, Bane, by her side. His temper flares as he sees the giant of a man comforting her. He should have left him to die in that pit. His presence has been part of what is keeping Talia so weak, from reaching her true potential. The monster with the iron mask is ruining her.
"Out in battle, men will not hesitate to break whatever they can." He begins, steely eyes set on the pair. "And you will not get to sit there like a broken doll and access the damage. You must get up and continue to fight. You must be stronger. You must be harder. This…this weakness that you possess will kill you, Talia! Do you not understand me? When you are in a fight, your opponent does not want to let you go with only a few reminders of how he beat you, he wants to kill you, so you will show others what happens when they challenge him!"
Bane sends a heated glare to the man who, by the end of his little speech, is screaming. He wants, more than anything, to make him pay for what he did to Talia. He can practically picture his hands around his neck, squeezing the life from him, making him beg for forgiveness. This wretch of a man has no idea what words like strong and hard even mean. Strong is a little child who climbed her way out of a pit hundreds of men had never even gotten half way up. Hard is a girl who watches her pathetic mother die in front of her, and forces herself to continue the fight to live. Ra's was spared the tortures of The Pit. Talia was not. She was born in it.
"Take her to the infirmary." Ra's says to Bane, shaking his head in disgust as he exits the training room. Bane holds down a curse as he turns all his attention to the girl.
"Talia, angel, look at me."
Slowly her eyes leave her arm and meet his. She blinks a couple times before seemingly rejoining him in the present.
"Bane?" she whispers, and he nods as he runs two fingers over her cheek.
"I…I think my arm is broken." She mutters, sending it another glance. He takes his fingers and turns her head back towards him.
"It is, angel. I need to take you to the doctor. Do you think you can stand?"
She nods numbly and with his help regains her footing. She stands, swaying slightly, and he presses a large hand to her back to steady her. Carefully, as though he's picking up the most delicate thing imaginable, he lifts her to his chest, minding her broken arm. She hisses as she brings it across her stomach. He closes his eyes as he feels her bury her face in the crook of his neck.
"Thank you, Bane." She whispers and he only nods as he begins the short walk to the infirmary.
Bane's mind is on full throttle and only one thought seems to really be sticking.
I need to get her out of here.
As he reaches the door for the infirmary, Talia has passed out and his limply lying in his arms. Seeing her like this reminds him of the little angel he held on his chest every night as they slept together.
I will get you out of her, Talia. I will help you fly once again, and this time, you won't be alone.