Dark Knight of Gotham

A/N: My usual disclaimers; all copyrights go to those who rightfully own them.

I'm going to keep working on Question of Honor but to be honest, I'm not liking where it's going (that and Grace is really beginning to get on my nerves). I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I happened upon E.V. Oleander's Phantom of the Opera fan-fiction The Greatest Love (which I really hope you do finish because I love it). In it, the Phantom and Christine are rulers of their respective countries and have to enter a marriage of convenience. It's a really weird concept, but I really like it and I'm not a huge Phantom of the Opera fan. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I like to consider this the Elseworld's edition of Question of Honor.

So here it is…enjoy Dark Knight of Gotham.

First Impressions

A knock came at the slot by the carriage driver's seat. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but we'll be entering Gotham City soon." The carriage driver said as he pulled the little sliding door open.

I was jerked out of the book I was reading. I wondered who he was addressing before realizing that he was addressing me. "Thank you." I said as the driver pulled the slot closed.

That's right…I thought as I looked at the ring on my left ring finger. It had a three carat round cut diamond set in the ornate silver band. It had been slipped on my finger during the proxy ceremony over a week ago. Its plain mate will join it during the religious ceremony in a week's time.

I was now Grace Wayne, Queen of Gotham and married to one of the richest and powerful kings in the world. A man who was known as the Boy King.

I had left my home and the family I loved to marry a man I once knew as a migrant beggar.

It had to be done. I reminded myself and stretched out to relieve the pain I had from sitting in one position for too long.

Corte Maltese was falling apart thanks to a devastating civil war.

Food and medicine was scarce.

There was scarce a building left standing.

Many lives had been lost…

Mama and Papa had taught me to put my people first. The symbol of the Montello family was of a pelican drawing blood from its breast for good reason.

The carriage rode through the gates. I could hear the cheers and roaring of the crowd as we rolled through.

The citizens of Gotham City were going out to meet their new Queen.

Now to meet my new subjects. I thought as I put a smile on my face and cupped my hand to wave.

First impressions are very important after all.

Bruce sat at his desk in Wayne Manor. Even though it was the official residence of the royal family, everyone referred to it as Wayne Manor.

A thousand papers and documents were sprawled out, each demanding his attention.

This one was from the disgraced William Earle, begging for reinstatement of his title as he had kept the country together during Bruce's long absence.

Another was from Lord Mayor Garcia, asking for more funds for the Sheriffs of Gotham who legally enforced the city's laws.

And this one from Prince Victor of Corte Maltese, thanking him for the latest shipment of food that had come from Gotham.

It never seemed to end…

Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes to get the last bit of sleep out of them. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep at his desk. He had done so at a couple of council meetings.

"Late night?" Lucius Fox asked him from behind.

"You have no idea." Bruce groaned as he rubbed the back of his head. He felt the large goose egg he had taken from that mugger the night before. Resting the traditional crown on his head only made the lump hurt worse so he went without it. He could only hope somebody else didn't notice that he had been hit.

A sly smile crossed the face of his most trusted advisor. He, Judge Rachel Dawes and Alfred were the only ones knew of Bruce's secret mission as the Dark Knight, protector of Gotham City.

By day, he appeared to be the King who was trying to protect his country from rampant crime. At night, he was the cloaked and masked vigilante known as the Dark Knight.

There was only so much he could do as King. Desperate times called for desperate measures after all.

His parents tried making change in a much more subdued matter. An act that got them killed.

It wouldn't be for much longer, anyway. Bruce silently hoped. Judge Harvey Dent along with Rachel seemed to be rounding up the crime element with as much fervor as he did, taking out the criminal lords and finishing what the Dark Knight had started.

A young messenger wearing the dark navy colors of the Gotham City Sheriffs stepped into the room. "Your Majesty." He panted, dropping on one knee.

"Rise." Bruce said, waving his hand. The messenger got to his feet. "What is it?" He asked.

"Lieutenant Gordon sent me to tell you that the carriage has passed through the city gates. It'll be here momentarily." The messenger said.

"Thank you." Bruce said, standing up and brushing down his brown-black hair.

His new bride was coming.

After all, first impressions are important

Our carriage rode through the richly decorated city streets packed with people. Or rather it crawled at a snail's pace. Not that I was complaining. After several days of being bounced over roads, I was glad for a smoother road, even if it was slower.

People waved and cheered. I saw parents lifting their little children up to give them a chance to see a queen. I felt my smile grow wider and I switched hands because one was too sore.

Maybe this won't be so bad. I thought.

Gotham City had a reputation of being crime ridden and rife with corruption so deep that it killed Bruce's parents. It was so intense that a mysterious vigilante calling himself the Dark Knight rides through the city nightly to protect its citizens. He was credited with saving the city after a dual attack by a mysterious group calling itself the League of Shadows along with the madman Jonathan Crane.

When Bruce contacted my family some three months ago and offered to send supplies to Corte Maltese in return for marrying me, my parents debated with their councilors. The arguments rang in my head.

Gotham City was too dangerous, the councilors warned.

Princess Grace is the only heir of Corte Maltese.

If something were to happen to her it would jeopardize the succession.

If our country hadn't been in danger of falling apart, I wouldn't have agreed.

But based on the greeting I was getting from the citizens, it seemed I had nothing to fear

As I waved to everyone, I noticed a strange figure in the crowd. He wore a long purple cloak over a deep green suit. His greasy blonde-brown curls clung to the sides of his head like he had just stepped out of a hot bath.

It was his face that unnerved me. His facial features would've been considered handsome…had his lips not been scarred to resemble a perpetual grin. Brown eyes, almost black, bored into my green ones.

When he saw that I was looking at him, he touched his finger to his lips and turned away, disappearing into a nearby alleyway.

That was odd. I thought before switching hands again.

Hopefully that would be the last I would see of him.

Bruce stood on the steps of Wayne Manor as the carriage made its way up the circular drive. The ivory colored stone walls seemed to glow in the late December sun. Alfred had the servants scurrying around scrubbing the palace from the ground floor to the roof for the new queen.

It wasn't his plan to marry. If he had his way, he would've waited for Rachel. His childhood sweetheart vowed to wait until the day the Dark Knight would no longer be needed.

But when he heard of how badly everything was going in Corte Maltese…it was a matter of honor. Grace's parents had taken him in during his soul-searching days. He enjoyed Grace's company while staying with her. And he was under pressure to produce an heir as quickly as possible.

There was nobody else in the Wayne line to inherit the throne. If something happened to him and he died without an heir, the country would fall into deeper trouble.

It had happened once when he vanished almost eight years previously. He had abandoned his father's legacy then.

He had no intention of making that mistake again.

I studied the grand house as we drove up to it. It wasn't as grand as the other palaces of the world. It seemed more like a grand manor house somebody would find in England.

But…it was still grand with the arching stones and large windows, standing proudly in a field of ankle deep snow.

I noticed the group of people waiting on the steps leading up to the grand house.

One caught my eye. Tall and pale. Dressed simply in a black and tan military uniform beneath a heavy looking black coat, a splash of decorations across his chest. Short brown-black hair. Thoughtful brown eyes.

I recognized him instantly.

Bruce Wayne…the King of Gotham. My new husband.

Bruce watched as the gilt carriage rolled to a stop. He saw her straighten out her crushed hunter green velvet dress beneath her fur lined burgundy cloak as the footman got off the back and ran over to open the carriage door. She took a deep breath before moving to get out of the carriage.

That was his cue. Bruce thought as he walked down to help her out of the carriage. "Welcome, Grace." He said as he offered her his hand. Those were the first words he said to her since leaving her behind almost seven years ago.

She took it and stepped out. Like other royalty he had known, she had a cool and composed look on her face.

It was a far cry from the carefree and bubbly teenager he knew during that brief summer. The one who was fond of practicing her violin and swimming in the warm sea. Ruling was far from her thoughts.

She seemed older and wiser now. Yet there was a sadness there.

Kiss her hand. His mother's voice rang in his head. It'll show that you're chivalrous. Bruce raised her hand to his lips, studying her as he did so.

Her long brown-black hair was hidden beneath her green hat, the white ostrich feathers quivered in the cold air. Her olive toned skin was lighter and dark patches surrounded her once vibrant green eyes. She clearly hadn't been sleeping well lately.

A result of the war? Leaving the only home and family she had ever known? Or was it a combination of the two?

Her trip. His father's voice whispered in his ear. Ask her how her trip was. "Hai un buon viaggio?" Bruce asked. It had been so long since he had spoken Italian. He hoped that she understood what he was asking her.

"E ' stato meraviglioso, grazie Bruce." Grace reassured him with a smile. Yet it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Was she angry at him? He did leave Corte Maltese without saying goodbye after all.

Not that he counted on her to answer honestly. At least not here in public.

"Welcome to Gotham, Your Majesty." Lucius said from behind.

Time to introduce her to his council. He thought. "Grace, may I present Count Lucius Fox, my chief councilor?" He said.

The wizened man bowed low, raising her hand to his lips respectfully. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."

"The pleasure is mine, Count Fox." Grace said with a polite smile on her face. "Bruce told me that you used to pass him sweets during lessons to stay awake?" She asked.

"Oh yes, I remember those." Lucius said, chuckling.

"Your Majesty." Duchess Leslie Thompkins, who was standing next to Lucius, curtseyed.

"This is Duchess Leslie Thompkins. Both she and Lucius have been serving the court since the reign of my father." Bruce explained.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Grace said, shaking her hand. "You work with the poor in Park Row?" She asked.

They went through the line, meeting each of the members. Grace took her time, greeting each person warmly and asking them about something Bruce told her. It marveled him that she was able to remember so much information from long ago.

He noticed that she was shivering despite her thick cloak. Of course this wasn't her sunny and warm island homeland.

Get her by a warm fire. Mother's voice echoed in his head. It wouldn't do if she froze to death before her wedding day.

"Would you like to head inside?" Bruce asked, offering his arm to her.

"That would be nice." Grace said, slipping her arm around his. Bruce led the way up the stairs, the council on their heels.

As expected, Alfred stood by the doorway, his suit neatly pressed and ramrod straight back. "Your Majesty, welcome to Wayne Manor."

"Grace, this is Alfred. He's the majordomo of the estate." Bruce said as Alfred bowed.

"You are a credit to Wayne Manor along with everyone else who works here." Grace said, offering a polite curtsey.

Bruce noted a spark appearing in Alfred's blue eyes. The retainer was apparently warming up to the young woman. This was a good sign. He thought as he led his bride into the warm splendor.

She was the first woman, other than Rachel, to have earned his approval. And that was saying a lot.

"These are the Queen's quarters." Bruce said as I looked around the large suite. "Is it to your liking?"

I looked around. The walls were covered with scarlet and ivory patterned wallpaper and the elegantly carved furniture was in warm wood tones. Paintings of serene landscapes and vases were placed all around the room. A fire crackled cheerfully in the large fireplace, filling the room with a welcome warmth. The white bedding on the bed appeared as thick as a cloud. Of to the side was a bathroom as large as my old bedroom in Corte Maltese. There was even a small room for the meager trousseau I had brought.

I felt a strange sense of discomfort. I had so much while everyone back home had so little.

"Is something wrong?" Bruce asked me. He looked a little anxious. Why? I wondered.

"No. It's perfect." I said with a smile. There was no need to get him uncomfortable.

"If there's something you don't like, then say something and I'll have it changed. You have a generous allowance, Grace." Bruce said.

Just being reminded of how much I have makes me feel worse. Why couldn't it be used to help the people back home?

Stop it, Grace Andrea. I reminded myself. Just be grateful for what you have. It's what your parents would expect of you.

"Bruce, I appreciate everything. I really do." I said. "I'm just too tired to really enjoy it right now."

"If you say so." Bruce said, watching as Alfred directed the servants bringing Grace's trunks. There were only six of them. Lady Hope O'Malley bragged of having collected fifteen full of things she would use when she married Bruce.

In a way, he was grateful to be marrying Grace and not Hope. At least she had a solid head on her shoulder and a genuine warmth. Hope only seemed to be in love with the idea of being a queen.

Most of the trunks in Grace's trousseau were red leather, locked with brass buckles. Only one of them was different. It was made of wood and carved with images of angels. "It's a cassone." Grace explained as she caught him looking at it. "I think you call it a hope chest here."

Ah yes, Bruce remembered. It was the box that contained the wedding dress she had made and other things the bride would need for her wedding night.

The wedding night…the thought made him slightly uncomfortable. While the religious ceremony wouldn't happen for a week, they were now legally married and could consummate the marriage at any time. He was grateful that their bedrooms were separated by a secret passageway. It would make his comings and goings as the Dark Knight much easier.

But being a bachelor was so much easier. Other than Alfred, there was nobody waiting for him at home when he went out on his escapades.

And one day, there would be children. It was an expected part of marriage. Especially a royal one. He wanted to be part of their lives just as his parents were before their untimely ends.

It's not for much longer. He reminded himself. Once the Five Crime Lords were taken down, then he'd leave the defense of Gotham City to Harvey and Rachel as planned.

It would be a huge load off of his mind. He couldn't ignore the rest of Gotham for much longer.

"Are you all right?" Grace asked, unlatching one of the trunks.

"Hmm?" Bruce asked. "No, everything is fine." He said, shaking his head clear.

"You just seemed lost in thought." Grace said as she took out of the dresses that had been carefully packed inside.

"I am. We have much to talk about." Bruce said, deciding to not beat around the bush. But he couldn't do it around so many servants. This was a private matter between a husband and his wife.

Grace gave him a look, immediately understanding. "What does our schedule look like for the rest of today?" She asks, shaking out another dress.

"Today is designated as a day of rest so you can be ready to be presented to the nation tomorrow." Bruce said. "I would spend the rest of today with you but some of my councilors want to meet with me. The only time I'd be free is at eight tonight. After that I'm free for the rest of the evening."

Unless Gordon lit the signal from Gotham Tower. He was praying that wasn't the case. This wasn't something that could wait.

"Would you like to have dinner at that time then?" Grace asked.

"Here in your chambers? We do have a breakfast table set up." Bruce pointed to the table and chair set at the foot of her bed.

"That's fine." Grace said with a smile.

"Thank you, Grace." Bruce said, relieved. There was one more thing…Bruce was struggling to remember what it was. He happened to hear a sound at the door. Turning, he saw Leslie standing there with Alfred. That's right. "Before I forget, I've asked Leslie to be in charge of your household and help you get settled in."

"Thank you, Bruce." Grace said as Leslie entered the room. "I appreciate it."

"I'll see you at eight tonight, then?" Bruce asked.

"At eight then." I said as Bruce leaned in. He gave me a gentle peck on the cheek. It was respectful and chaste. Nothing at all like our first kiss behind the villa's ebony tree back home at Corte Maltese. The only sign of affection he had given me…before vanishing with a note thanking my father and a carved ebony bracelet for me.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Your Majesty?" Lady Thompkins asked me, pushing a lock of steel gray hair behind her ear.

"If you don't mind helping me unpack, that would be great, Lady Thompkins." I said.

"I don't mind at all." She said warmly, a softness appearing in her dark brown eyes. "And please, call me Leslie."

I felt myself softening. She was very friendly. No wonder Bruce had picked her to help me. "Only if you call me Grace. You've been at court since the time Bruce was born?" I asked as I took the dress to the room to hang up.

"Actually, since the time his late parents married. I was one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting." Leslie said, beginning to unlatch another trunk. "You two met in Corte Maltese?"

"Many years ago." I said, my thoughts returning to the kiss Bruce and I shared years ago.

Would we ever get that close again?

I doubt it. I thought as I returned to my unpacking.

He seemed to move on just fine after leaving us, going through whirlwind romances like some people drink water. I wouldn't be surprised if he kept at least one mistress.

But that was the lot of being royal consort. A wife for safe measure and a lover for pleasure as the saying back home went. Papa and Bruce's father were two notable exceptions.

Bruce has his own life.

And I have mine.

"What do you plan to do about your late nights?" Alfred asked him as they walked down the hallway to Bruce's study.

Bruce hadn't paid much thought to that. While it was allowed for Kings to take mistresses, his father broke tradition and remained faithful to his wife. "I'm now married, Alfred. No more courtesans or mistresses." He said. "It worked for my father and for Grace's. It'll be the same way with me."

"I was talking about your…other…nightlife." Alfred said. "If I may suggest, Your Majesty, this is a topic you might want to discuss with Her Majesty about…"

"No." Bruce said. "The Dark Knight won't be around for much longer."

Alfred stopped walking and looked at Bruce. "The Dark Knight maybe for a short time, but you've made a lifelong commitment to her. After all, she's far from home and her family and the only person she knows here is you."

Bruce chuckled and shook his head. Alfred was the only person he knew who could put him in his place. He told him what he needed to hear as opposed to what he wanted.

But this was different. His commitment to the people of Gotham was important. It was the promise he had made to his father as he lay dying on the cold pavement of Park Row all those years ago. The promise to not let Gotham fall.

That came first. Even above his family life.

"The Dark Knight will be around for a few more months at most if everything goes according to plan. I'll have the rest of our lives to work out the marriage with Grace." He said. "And I trust you to not tell her. I'll do that when I'm ready."

Alfred bowed. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

The matter considered settled, Bruce made his way to the meeting room.

A/N: Ok, this is an incredibly crazy premise but hopefully it'll explain Bruce and Grace's relationship a little more, why she agreed to marry him in the first place, and (hopefully) show Grace as more proactive and having an actual arc throughout the whole thing.

So, do you want me to continue further on this story? Or do you like Question of Honor better? As I mentioned, I'll continue it but it's going to be a while.

Italian translation:

Hai un buon viaggio: Did you have a nice trip?

E ' stato meraviglioso, grazie Bruce: It was very nice, thank you Bruce