The Cold And Heartless

by theleague-ofshadows

Talia and Bane are separated when Talia is forced to escape from the Pit, but they are reunited when Ra's Al Ghul brings Bane out of the prison to join the League and train with Talia. As Talia and Bane become closer, Ra's Al Ghul doubts his decision and the consequences are not nearly as severe as the reality to come.

14. Chapter 14

A/N: Can I just say, I have never written a chapter this long, or this complex in the entirety of my life. I honestly don't know how I made it out alive.

17,000+ words!

Where is the medal for the OTHER longest chapter? hmm?

I don't want to say anything, really in these top notes. I feel I have more to say through my story and once everyone is done reading it, we can discuss yeah?

But before I go, a special thank you to all of my reviewers. Any bit of feedback is selfishly desired.

Thank you!

Now, off you go!

---

The Cold and Heartless

written by theleague-ofshadows

Chapter 14

---

In the hills of Malaysia, just beyond the eastern hills, there resonated an empire that was so large, its shadows spanned out to reach each corner of the surrounding mountains. The empire was named Dinijad, ruled by a king known as Tos Alminot. Alminot harbored a deep affection for each of his people; he was truthfully a kind and just king. He married to the princess of the southern Indonesian border, their marriage sealing a bond between the lands.

All was tranquil as the years bore on and no trouble came to the palace in the eastern hills. His wife, Silveya, took an interest in the local sweeper boy who apprenticed his father down in the cellars. On occasion, she would call him to her drawing room and have him work where she could watch; fascinated by the thought of a child to call her own. The young boy had light curls and the deepest of blue eyes.

Silveya grew accustom to the boy and required his and his father's work for personal service. Alminot watched his wife become less agitated and more peaceful as she conversed with the child. He found it odd for her interest to be so strengthened, but his wife was happier as the time went by. He found it strange that she looked beyond status and enjoyed the presence of a poor boy and his withered father.

Every night of the full moon the king lay with his wife as tradition of the eastern goddess. It had been months since the marriage, many times that the king had mated with her, but it was not until the night of the seventeenth full moon that Silveya confessed to her husband the complexity of her condition. Her father wished for her to conceal it, for he knew that the king of the Eastern Malaysian hills would not want a wife who could not bear a child.

Silveya shook with fear as she finally told her husband that she could not carry his heir. She was unsure of how the king would react or even if she would be thrown aside due to her lack of the ability to give. But she was sure her husband must know the truth and hope that he was a merciful man.

Alminot stared at her sun-blessed face, his body stiff with surprise before he reached his thick fingers to wipe the tears from her eyes. She looked to him with surprise, almost wondering if he truthfully had heard her. Alminot made a sound of humor, his mouth forming a smile as he spoke.

"Fear does not become you, dear one. Please, dry your tears. Your honesty has mesmerized my soul and I treasure your courage."

Silveya did as he commanded but her tears did not stop. She grew to love the man even more as his understanding seemed to touch something within her.

Alminot seemed to understand, then, what the true reason behind his wife's interest in the child was. Her affection was one that she would never be able to give to a child of her own.

Three years had passed and though the couple still lay beneath the full moon, they did so knowing that there was no outcome beyond the simple pleasure. Silveya took in the young child once his father died of a disease that took place in his lungs. The young boy, Hunstan, grieved for months. Yet softly, and with time, things started to get better for the child. Silveya and Hunstan shared time together as things started to grow past the point of sorrow and to a new age that seemed to flourish. They were to reach a golden age.

But time did not escape Silveya and her new adopted son when the plague reached the west hills and flew down into the eastern hemisphere. Silveya's Indonesian roots ceased the disease from affecting her harshly, yet the plague fell upon her husband and Hunstan. The king's bed side was always filled with healers and those trying to keep him healthy enough to live for the kingdom did not have an heir. Silveya persistently stayed at his side for days, wishing to heal both of her loved ones at once, but knew her duty as queen.

One evening, when the shadows seemed the darkest, Alminot woke to a raging cough. Silveya seemed to calm it with warm water and gentle rubs down his spine. Alminot looked to his wife and saw her fatigue. He reached up to softly graze her cheek and told her she should go to their chambers and sleep; that he did not wish to see her die. She shook her head and continued to nurse him.

But as time passed, Alminot saw her worry in her eyes. He spoke gently after minutes had passed.

"Hunstan needs you, my love. Call in the healer and he will nurse me to health. Our son needs you."

She smiled at the way he used the word 'son' for he had never fully embraced the way she loved the child. She brought her husband's hands to her lips and kissed them tenderly before she stood up and exited the chambers.

She did not return that night. After reaching her son and sitting beside him, humming a melody of her favorite fable, her son faded into the night to return to the Eastern gods.

The queen did not exit the castle for two years, lost in her grief and agony. Her husband did his best to comfort her, but the mother she was did not return to the land of the living. Silveya grew mute with sorrow.

Her husband, rich with grief at his wife's loss, wished to see her smile once more. He wished to search for young children in the common grounds below that were orphaned or in need of care to bring to his wife and let her have her chance as a mother again, but nothing prevailed. The king was on the verge of lost hope.

That was when he went to the Black Corna for help. The wicked warden of the dark forest was rumored to have possessed magic; enough to help a human, even, for the wizard mainly used his power on animals. The king snuck from the castle with a few guards to enter the dark forest and met with the Black Corna, his face uglier than a charred swine's. The king did not cower in the face of the darkest in the entire realm, however. He stood tall and pleaded for the wizard to help his wife.

The Black Corna bowed his head gently and closed his eyes in a polite manner to address the king. "The boy was not of her blood?"

King Alminot winced at the words, his mouth ajar at the magician for he had not uttered a word of the boy's parentage. He nodded and asked if there was a way to heal his wife of her depression.

The Black Corna confirmed, but spoke quietly a warning. "Magic is a burden, King of the East. If you permit me you must know there are always consequences."

The king hesitated, his fingers firmly gripping the reins of his horse. He thought deeply of his wife and how he could not live with her sorrow. She needed to live again. He looked up to the wizard and nodded. "I want your help."

The Black Corna raised his head, his chin high as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He raised the edges of his cloak and spun it around his body, creating a cocoon for himself. The wind began shifting and the clouds formed above. The horses grew skittish as the weather changed suddenly and then the ground began to rumble, smoke seeping from each crack.

The guards shielded the king but the king only wished to look further. The Black Corna did not pronounce a word before he opened his eyes once more and looked to the king. His cloak unraveled from his body and there by his feet laid a bushel of blood red dandelions. He knelt to pick three, and stepped solemnly to the king. The guards prepared their swords but the king waved them away. The magician lifted his hand up to the king's and placed the flowers in his hand.

"Have her ingest these. They are Dandelions of Rivena, produced from magic and the blood of a pure turned sinner. They are not poisonous and will heal her of her condition. But remember, King of the East. This is a burden that will come with a price. Make sure you are ready for the consequences."

The king curled his gloved hand around the flowers and nodded to the Black Corna. Then the wizard turned his head and moved slowly to the edges of the trees, his phantom-like physique haunting. When he was not to be seen anymore, the men traveled home.

Upon his arrival, the king went to the kitchens and alarmed all that worked there to demand his wife be prepared a dish of braised meats marinated in an herb sauce that contained the flowers. Time slowed as the dish was prepared and the king grew anxious.

Upon its delivery, the queen refused the meal, claiming she wished not to eat. The king grew troubled with this and demanded that the meal be saved for when she did possess an appetite. It was the next day that the queen finally fed and when she was finished the king saw no miraculous recovery.

Days started to pass, yet the king only saw her more pale than before. He began to worry when one day his wife came to him with a grave look on her face, her eyes wide as she proclaimed. "Your majesty, I have not bled past a week now."

The king looked to her, his face confused when he finally understood the meaning behind her words. The queen was blessed with child. But it was impossible due to the fact that they had not lain in two years. The king was busy contemplating how it was possible when he suddenly thought on to the Black Corna and his magic. Could it be possible that he cured his wife of her condition? That condition? The weeks that passed the queen still seemed estranged, but had a certain glow to her that he king had not seen in years. She used her slim hand to graze her stomach and felt where her child would be. She was in initial shock, but as the months passed the mother grew happier.

It was a February when the queen gave birth to an heir. The king did not even mind that the child was female for all that he cared for was that his wife was content. The new mother rocked her child in her arms and sang to her, just as she had Hunstan.

The child was named Miranda.

Eighteen years passed and Miranda flourished as the beautiful princess the lands wrote songs for. She had rich brown hair, flowing down her back past her corset edge. The men of the lands wished with earnest to court her, but her loyalty seemed to remain with her religion and people.

Her people were just as equally loyal.

Her mother and father were the most loving of them all. They cherished her and often called her a miracle.

It was not until Miranda's eighteenth birthday, the day she bridged to womanhood, that the magic's consequences seemed to follow.

The halls were filled with the people of the distant lands and that of her own when a loud rumbling noise entered the room and there was a shadow cast all around. There were screams of terror as a hooded figure seemed to rise from the stone floor.

The Black Corna had returned.

The king stepped forth, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What has provoked your visit, magician?"

The Black Corna bowed once more and pulled his hood down. The people of the crowd shriveled with disgust. "I told you of a time when my deeds would need a prize in return."

The king stiffened, only he knew the meaning behind his words. "No." He whispered, his tone pleading.

"I warned you, King of the East."

The king shook his head and reached for his sword, but the Black Corna used his hand to magically flick it from his grip. "I do not wish to start a war, sovereign. I have come to collect."

"She is not yours to collect, wizard! She is our daughter! The rightful princess of Dinijad!"

"The princess that I gave you."

Silveya gasped with disbelief. "She is my daughter! Please don't take her from me!"

The wizard turned his eyes to her, his face softening at her pleas. "I'm afraid I cannot. Your husband made me a deal and I am unable to break the bond."

The queen wailed, gripping her daughter's arm tightly as she protested. "She is all that I have."

Miranda looked with confusion to her mother and then to the magician.

"She has been bound to the demon who gave her life. Balance has to be set, your majesty." The man in the cloak uttered. His claw-like hands reaching out slowly for the young woman.

Miranda looked to her parents and shook her head. "Mama? Papa? What does he mean?"

But before she could receive an answer, the king yelled for the guards. There was a clatter outside as the men reached the door and entered. The Black Corna hissed with distain and reached for the young girl. She let out a surprised cry as she was ripped from her family.

"I told you, King of the East. Magic always comes with a price." Then there was a large cloud of smoke and the walls shook once more. Once the center of the room cleared of its residue, the princess and the wizard were gone.

Miranda struggled against the grip of her captor, pleading for him to take her back. But her abductor was silent as he pulled her through a dark tunnel made of earth. There were torches illuminating the pathway, leading further and further down.

They reached a metal gate, twisted and deformed in an ugly fashion. Miranda smelt the filth beyond the doors and cringed, every aspect of her being curled with disgust. When the gates opened, the Black Corna took her down through the purgatory and to a chamber filled with the essence of ash.

Miranda cowered in fear, her eyes searching the room.

The Black Corna took her to a goblet, took a blade from under his cloak and cut a sharp line down her palm. She hissed with pain as the blood flowed down her palm and into the cup, steaming as the liquid made contact with the bronze goblet. There was a low growling that aroused as her blood mixed with the wine in the goblet.

The ritual was complete; her bond to the Black Corna was sealed. Because he gave her life, she was to be his for the remainder of her life.

---

Talia's fingers pressed lightly over the illustration on the opposite page of the girl with the dark hair and her captor, gripping her tightly when her father called her name. A small frown forming on her face as she looked for her father, Talia had to return from a world that the tale had created. The windows let in light as the sounds of men battled in the background. The young girl looked up from her spot on the west wall, the book of ancient tales, withered and aged, in her fingers. Her father waved for her to come forth, his face forming a soft smile.

Talia licked her index finger and gripped the page firmly before she marked the page she had finished and stood up.

"Reading again, little one?" He asked, his fingers curling around her shoulder as he led her over to one corner of the room. She nodded, the story still etched in her mind. She wished she had not been interrupted. She wanted to know the ending to the story.

---

There were eight sharp raps on the dark cherry door, but with the speed of the notions, it sounded more like three. She turned her head intently to look down the hall. Had Bane come to visit her so soon?

"Talia, open up. It's an emergency."

M'har's deep voice reverberated behind the door and Talia stood up with haste. Her feet quickly took her to the wooden entranceway and she swiftly gripped the knob and unlocked it. M'har entered, turning quickly to grip Talia's elbow.

The young woman looked up to him and widened her eyes. "What is the matter?" She asked quickly, her body stiff with surprise.

"You have to come now." He searched the room, finding it empty. "It's Bane." He whispered.

"Is he injured?" Talia inhaled sharply, her whole mindset shifting as she gripped onto M'har, demanding an answer. A critical hysteria seemed to transfix her as her thoughts drifted to all of the options that came with his previous words.

M'har set his jaw. "Come, we must hurry."

Talia frowned immensely. "What has happened to Bane, M'har?" She persisted.

But he gripped her elbow more thoroughly, pulling with force and managing to take her from the room. She looked back to the dark cherry door and then forward. She didn't know where she was going, only that Bane needed her, and that was all that she needed to know.

---

"You jeopardized my safety!" Her voice illuminated the thick atmosphere of the vehicle as the initial shock wore off. "How dare you lie like that?"

Her teeth were practically bared as she fumed with contempt. She turned her head to stare venomously into the side of his, his eyes on the road the entire time.

"You would never have left on your own." His voice like liquid, fluid in its notions. He did not dare turn to look at her, not from fear, but something Talia could not explain. She felt the bile reaction rising in her throat. She spoke through clenched teeth, turning each word into a ferocious weapon.

"Of course I wouldn't!" And she never, really would.

---

"Dr. Crane, have you decided to visit Arkham today? If so, I would be very grateful if you delivered these files to Rosetta."

Talia, her stare transfixed on the sole person who brought horrible memories flashing before her eyes, could not move her body as he stared back. The short man in the navy coat had reached the skinny man's side. Dr. Crane, as it seemed, shifted his eyes to the snub man at his side.

The short man had an umbrella in his hand that he must have needed earlier in the morning, though Talia was unsure because she woke not long before M'har proceeded to her apartment. He was not very attractive and at least in his mid-forties, but Talia could only look to him and yearn for him to get to safety. That the man he was addressing was implacable.

"I'm sorry, Johnson, I've just ran into an old…" He turned to look at Talia's face, his expression barely readable. "Acquaintance. I'm afraid we are going to have to play 'catch up.' If you will excuse me, I won't be able to turn in your documents as of the moment." His eyes turning back to Johnson. "But tell Rosetta not to fear. She will get what she… deserves in due time."

His voice was liquid and blended with the alarming honk of the cab driver. "Would you like to share this cab…Miss Al Ghul," He paused to narrow his eyes slightly, "or shall we walk while we… reacquaint ourselves?"

Talia's eyes were wide. She was fully aware that M'har had been standing near her, unaware of whom the man that stood before her truly was or who he meant to her. She was unable to comprehend what it was she wished to do or even what it was she could do, when the man in the silver rimmed glasses spoke once more.

"Does your father know you have come out to play?" He said in a low tone, one she could barely catch. Her eyes flashed as her heart ran a mile a minute, making her skull throb. Her lips parted with confusion and astonishment and her fingers fell from the door knob of the cab.

"He's here?" Keeping her voice just as low as his, making sure her back was turned to M'har. Her body was enthralled and seemed to move forward unconsciously as she formulated a dangerous plan. Her wide blue eyes met Dr. Crane's and she held his gaze as she waited for him to answer. Her mind detesting the idea she had previously formulated.

"He's been looking for you."

Talia felt a shiver slither down her spine as the words that came out of his mouth came down on her like ice on a winter's day. She had figured a way long before her encounter with Crane of easing herself of this war on herself and her loved ones. She had known it was the only way to stop her father. It was not one that she enjoyed, nor one that she was prepared for, but it was one that she needed to fulfill. Because enough people had died. If she did not go through with it, she knew that not one of her loved ones would survive her father's wrath.

She clenched her teeth as the dry sensation in her stomach seemed to suffocate her of any form of ease. She would have to go through with it. She lowered her voice even more as she spoke, her voice wavering. "Can you take me to him?"

Dr. Crane narrowed his eyes even more as his right corner of his lip twitched. He said nothing, but Talia knew that he could. She could see it in his eyes. She had to tell herself to calm her breathing cycle. She couldn't back out now.

M'har was nearing closer, she could feel his presence behind her edging closer. She stared into Crane's eyes for a long minute, exchanging words that were not spoken aloud. It was when M'har brushed her shoulder blade with his fingers that she swallowed and stepped backwards an inch.

"I really don't have time to catch up today, Dr. Crane." She spoke clearly, her voice much louder this time. "Take the cab, we can reacquaint ourselves another day." Her back was still turned to M'har and her eyes were still locked with Crane's. She looked into his eyes, a certain thought she willed him to receive. A conscious idea that she wished for him to catch onto so that she could go through with it.

She backed away completely from his side, shifting her eyes away as she turned around and met M'har's without trouble. His confusion was evident and she knew that he had no idea the purpose behind her encounter. She smiled weakly at him before her lips turned into a thin line and she indicated that he make his way back to the car to take her home or wherever it was he was going to take her. M'har's brow furrowed as he watched defeat become written so profoundly over her features. He hesitantly turned to slowly start walking the whole while his eyes on her. She followed him and in the background the cab honked again, making Talia wince.

"Who was that, Talia?" M'har asked, walking a little quickly as they moved away. He looked to her face as she shook her head.

"No one." She answered.

M'har frowned, but began turning his form, twisting so that he fully had his back to Talia. She felt the swell of her chest coming on. She inhaled deeply, mouthing a silent apology as she looked to the back of M'har's head. She would miss him.

Turning quickly and as silently as she could, Talia sprinted back. She was at least twenty yards away from the cab and Crane stuck his head out, waiting for her.

M'har heard her running and turned quickly to see her retreat. He quickly and on instinct, followed her. Trying to catch her, but she was too quick. She reached the opened yellow door of the cab and slid inside with haste, slamming the door and yelling at the driver to get her away. To drive before she could make sense of what she was doing.

M'har reached nearer, his fingers gripping the trunk of the cab as they sped down the street. He ran, sprinted with all of his might, to reach for her. She felt her breaths suffocate her. What had she done?

What was she doing?

The car was too fast for M'har, however, because he could not reach her. She watched him getting smaller as the cab driver sped up.

"What the hell was all that about?" The driver growled from his place in the front. He looked in the rear view mirror, glaring at Talia.

"Fifteen E. Bishop Street." Crane interfered. He then looked to Talia, her face in a frenzy. Her fingers found her lips as she tried to keep from letting the sorrow transfix her.

---

Scarecrow, scarecrow, scare the birds for me?

Keep the harvest free of those pesky thieves.

---

"Had the others told you of my name, Monarch?" He did not turn to see if she had agreed. Talia winced at his use of her faux name. The one she detested and wished not to ever hear from any mouth ever again.

"Yes." She answered, clenching her teeth.

Crane let out a humorless laugh. "I'm sure that the irony of the present situation must amuse you."

Having the taxi driver take Jonathan and Talia to the location that Jonathan requested, from then on, Crane took them out of Gotham's city limits and to an abandoned farm. There were walking through a withered corn field to reach a house at the end.

The open fields of dead corn seemed to stifle Talia into a state of watchfulness. The sun was setting. It was getting darker. It was not amusing at all.

Then she remembered what the people of the institution who kidnapped her used to call him.

Scarecrow.

A scarecrow in a field of corn.

Oh, how comical.

Talia bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something vile about how, given his history, she found nothing about him humorous.

She kept quiet and when she did not answer, Jonathan turned to stare at her. "Do you know why they call me Scarecrow, Monarch?"

"Talia." She corrected.

Crane ignored that. "It is because of my mask. Perhaps if you stay long enough, I'll let you see it."

Talia frowned. What was he talking about?

They exited the corn field in a matter of minutes and headed around the house to the back where a tornado shelter was built. Heading down, Talia noticed barrels, plentiful in stock of some sort of chemical.

She craned her neck to look around as she neared further and found that the tornado shelter was only base for a tunnel that had been built further on. She reached the end of the stairs and looked to her left then to her right and saw that the walls had been knocked out and there was a deep, thick tunnel that led in both directions to a place unknown.

"What is this place?" She asked. Why had he brought her here?

"Your father has required our intelligence and has ordered us to manufacture him a weapon." Crane answered in his nonchalant tone. There were others in the tunnel as well, moving the barrels around and taking inventory. Talia searched their faces. Looking to find someone familiar but she recognized no one.

"Where is Needles?" Talia wondered. Her fingers balling into a fist. She was terrified of encountering her again. After Bane killed Sphere, Talia was sure that Needles would seek vengeance.

Jonathan did not answer. He walked to Talia's left and started to move into the tunnels, lantern gripped firmly in his hand. Talia followed him into the darkness. The tunnels led further into a place she could not see. She was not sure if they journeyed further into the earth. They reached a corner and moved that way, walking past men who were pulling caskets of some sort of material.

Talia looked around, her eyes searching when they fell upon something blue in the distance. She narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to glimpse the object better when she recognized what exactly it was she was looking at. She walked closer to Crane and once she met the site, she paused.

Jonathan noticed and turned to look at her.

She picked up the blue flower from the mass pile lying in a casket and twirled it in her fingers. She closed her eyes. It smelled like home.

Upon opening her eyes, she met Jonathan's blue ones with confusion. "These are from the mountains of my home."

Jonathan was emotionless as he replied. "It is a small supply for experimental purposes."

"Experiments for what?" She asked.

Crane turned his head, looking up towards the tunnel's ceiling and then down further. "We are almost there." He began walking.

Talia pulled a petal from the flower with her fingernails, before she set it back to the casket on the floor. "Almost where?"

But, as before, Jonathan did not reply.

---

"Drugs?"

Jonathan's face was grim but there was a certain wicked look to him as he smiled stiffly and nodded. He gripped the iron bars of the railing above the men working below. They had moved; he had shown her the underground level which was used to supply the blue flowers of her homeland and then to the factory above ground that harbored the chemicals that were made from the flowers. The men working below looked exhausted.

Talia wondered what her father was going to do with the drugs. What even was there to do with something like that?

"And she…" Talia paused, her stomach clenching. "Needles… she partnered with my father?"

Crane inhaled slowly and began walking once more, leading Talia down the stairs to the bottom level. "She did many things for your father. All of which were paid nothing exceptional in return."

He walked quickly and Talia had to quicken her pace to stay in tune with his. But something confused her. "He did not repay her?"

Crane turned, pursing his lips dangerously as he exhaled sharply. "Oh, he repaid her loyalty thoroughly." He spoke in a strained voice. "Murdered her, however, when her partnership was not satisfactory."

Talia's heart stopped as she looked at Crane and her lips parted in shock. "He killed her?"

"Do you honestly think so highly of your father, Monarch, that you would become blind to his severity?"

Talia could not speak. She could not breathe. Needles was dead. Just like Sphere. She took a few minutes to process that, the whole while Crane waited.

Of course not. She knew, to the depths of her heart, just his fire. All of that weight that he brought. She knew of his evils; of his torturous mentality. And she knew what it had done to her. She knew what she was going into. She knew what she had left behind.

Talia had to clench her fist savagely to keep from letting her tears show. She had left behind Bane.

She had left him to wage a war against her father.

"Why did he kill her?"

Crane looked down and smiled slightly, but his smile was sadistic, as if he was imagining horrible things. "Why does anyone kill anyone? For the satisfactory of sating a debt. She was, as he said, 'A tie to dismember from the core.'" He looked up to her, his blue eyes deepened. "She was not what he needed, so therefore disposed."

Talia coiled back in fear as the intensity of his gaze became too much for her to handle and the circumstances became too much for her to bear. His tone was scathing, taking her and directing it in such a forceful manner that she assumed he inflicted the dark tone upon her.

She narrowed her eyes slightly from complex confusion. "What was she to you, Crane?" Her eyes met his and she had to swallow her fear momentarily to get an answer from him.

What was his relation to Needles? It seemed more in depth than a causal relationship, for the way he stiffly answered Talia seemed to indicate that Needles was far more than simply another member.

Crane clenched his jaw, in an irritated manner, he looked to his left. He had a haughty attitude in his mannerisms and Talia was definite that he indeed was not one she wished to spend her time conversing with. It seemed that he had no interest in anything, nor anyone. Just the sentimental authority that could appease himself.

He took a long time before he answered, much to Talia's surprise. "My dearest cousin had it coming for her. I knew that she was trifling with the wrong crowd, and in return, she dug her fingers too deep into the mass of blood. You see, terror is of the mind. Something beautiful in its midst and something that is an art. We as an organization tried to teach the mind to adapt to its theft, to find a way to use it." He stepped closer to Talia and her eyes grew wide. His smile widened. "Fear is the only real emotion left that has no opponent, and in time, your father came to realize just how essential our developed thesis was. He wished to use it. My cousin was only too eager to infect herself with the idea that your father could bring our establishment to a greater era. She was too arrogant."

Talia watched Crane's lip twitch as he grew lost in thought. His cousin…. Talia was speechless at the discovery.

"She was abducted…. And then they scalped her." Crane's rimmed glasses shined as the sun from the window reflected off of them. "I am sure she informed you of our decree and the importance of purity in our establishment."

Talia nodded. She knew what that meant. When she was kidnapped, she was informed that beauty was not a gift, that it was something earned. Needle's had hair well over three feet and a half, an indication that she was well pure enough. Her father had stripped Crane's cousin of all of her purity.

She curled her fingers into a fist.

Talia could not respect the idea they stood for, but Needles' death was not necessary and it only made her father a darker image in the back of her mind; slowly easing its way forward.

She did not apologize, nor would she ever. Crane exhaled, annoyed. His stance shifted as he backed away a bit, his dark humor drained. "Still wishing to see your father again?"

Talia clenched her teeth and held back the tempting urge to spit at him with complete disrespect. How dare he mock her? He would never know the real reasons for her dislike for her father. He didn't deserve to. She cared none whatsoever of Needle's death. It did not affect her.

She turned her eyes to Crane, showing him with her darkest look that she was having none of his games. His smirk grew dangerously.

"Come now, let me show you to headquarters. Your father will be waiting there." Crane turned around and began walking once more. Talia followed. "I assume your father knows not of your visit. Tell me, how do you plan to reunite?"

Talia's teeth grazed her tongue as she tried to breathe normally. "Leave that to me."

---

Her bedroom cell was more like a prison than it was a sleeping chamber, and though the Black Corna did not lock the cell, she never wished to leave. Miranda would stow herself away in her chambers for days, refusing food or company. Soon, the dark wizard sent food up to her room.

She imagined he wished not to converse with her. He had made no attempts to introduce a situation where they may need to and she was eager to concur. But a part of her wondered why she had been taken. She wondered what he had meant, 'bound to the demon who gave her life.' She pondered the thought for days, wondering what if he was sane.

Miranda missed her parents. She wished for them not to grieve, however. She was told of their loss before her time and she knew that her departure was one that they were most likely taking heavily. She missed her people as well. She missed her land.

She was deliberate; keeping herself calm enough as the weeks passed and resisting the urge to feel sorry for herself. She was a well-rounded woman, always in tune with her inner spirit, but she was as much human as any other. Miranda reached up to touch her eyelids with her fingers, feeling the weak exhale escape her and bit her bottom lip. Sitting on her bed, she felt the moisture stain her fingers. She made no sound, but she cried sorrowfully.

That night she did not sleep.

She composed herself the next day into the rightful princess of Dinijad, holding her head high and calmly taking in another day. She found to ease the bore life of the cell, singing seemed to soothe her. Always a leisure she enjoyed, the princess would hum and carol her favorite hymnals; quietly of course.

It was not quiet enough, however, because it attracted even the darkest of souls. She was ignorant of his presence each day as he would pass her chambers and listen. It was weeks before he finally entered upon her mid-song. She paused, turning, her eyes finding his black robes before she sought his eyes.

He looked at her from her place on the floor and lowered his hood. His deformed face ugly, but Miranda did not look away.

"What is the name of that song?" He asked, her eyes intensely staring into hers. She stood up, quickly gripping her fingers behind her back and looking back to him. She held no fear; she was only shocked.

"'The Blue Hills of Redmana" She answered, her voice small.

The Black Corna lifted his chin and looked up to the ceiling of her room. He nodded then, and inhaled deeply. "I have come to request your presence for supper. Unless… of course, you wish to spend your time here."

The question shocked Miranda. He had never asked her, nor had he ever seemed as if he wished to have her accompany him for anything. She did not know what possessed her, but her answer was affirmative and then the Black Corna left without another look at her.

Miranda sat on her bed, her mind in tangles.

She waited hours. The time seemed endless before she decided she would exit her room to meet him to dine. She walked to her door, cautiously moving the knob until it twisted fully and she was able to open it with ease.

She inhaled, looking around at the surroundings she thought she remembered. Only seeing them once as the Black Corna led her to her room, Talia was sure everything seemed an ugly gloom, taking the form of evil and carnage.

But as she left her room for the first time in months, Miranda found interest in the décor of her surroundings. She wondered how things could have changed so.

As she reached the dining room, the long table seemed terrifying and bare, all except for the meals set on each end. She ran her fingers across the oak and clenched her teeth.

"You came."

The voice from behind her startled her and she quickly turned to see his face, hard and unreadable. She nodded cautiously and seated herself. The Black Corna seated himself at the end of his side, carefully examining her face.

They ate in silence, the Black Corna beginning and Miranda following. She dared not speak, unsure of how to act. It was what seemed ages before she finally asked him something, trying to keep her voice stable.

"You said to my parents, the day you took me away, that I was to be bonded to the demon who gave me life. What did you mean?" She looked up to him, his eyes moving to hers.

"Your mother was unable to conceive a child and I gave your father the magic to create you. I however, used my own blood to produce the magic. You were made from me."

Miranda looked down, her mind hazed. "Why did you take me? You have asked me nothing of what I am to do for you."

The wizard smiled darkly. "You are my daughter."

"I am not. My parents remain in Dinijad." She answered harshly in a whisper.

The Black Corna scowled. "I have created you, and that makes you mine."

"Because you have taken me does not give you ownership." She muttered, looking at him directly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his face darkening.

"You may keep me locked away in this castle, far beyond where I can go home. And you can keep me trapped forever. But I will never be yours… Because I must love you to truthfully submit." She looked at him for a long time, not turning her gaze away before she excused herself and stood up from her place in her chair. Walking back to her room. She made it all the way up the stairs before the wizard configured instantly in front of her.

She gasped and stepped backwards from the shock. He looked down at the floor then to her eyes. "None of my other children have spoken so."

Miranda breathed quickly as she tried to stabilize her heartbeat. "Pardon?"

"Will you meet me again, tomorrow?" He asked, his black eyes boring into hers.

She paused, her lips parted in disbelief. It seemed impossible for him to offer when she had just deliberately defied him in such a rude manner. She wondered what he wished to accomplish.

She nodded then walked around him to her chambers, before closing the door and sitting on her bed. Her mind did not find peace that night.

---

There was a large rumble as the thunder danced between the mountains. Talia looked up from her book and turned her eyes around the room, finding that it had grown rather dark. She looked then back to the book in her lap, flipping the pages further, deciding not to read until she could see what happened. She kept turning pages, looking as the mood got livelier through the illustrations.

She turned the pages, watching the hooded figure reach his hand out to graze her cheek. The next had one of her wrapping her arms around his waist, as if she was hugging him. She flipped a few more until she landed on one of a mass of people, looking disruptive and angry.

She frowned, quickly flipping to the next page and scanning her eyes over the words, trying to catch what had happened. Her eyes desperately looked over the paper and she caught onto one section.

…The fire started in the East section of the castle and the infuriated voices rang up the stairs. He gripped her hand and ran with her to the tower above. Miranda whimpered as he pulled her, her whole form shaking with fear.

They reached the door that entered the tower. He opened it and entered with Miranda by his side. He brought her to face him, his skeletal hands framing her face. "They are here to kill me, my dear." Miranda wailed but the Black Corna silenced her. "My daughter, we must say goodbye now."

"No." She whispered through her tears. "I will not let you die."

"I'm afraid that's not up to you my dear." A voice came from behind. Miranda and the Black Corna turned to see Dyanj revealing himself from behind the curtain. Miranda felt a scream rise in her throat. She knew her father's magic was weakening. He would not be able to stop this man from killing him.

The Black Corna hissed, the sword in his hand glinting as he shifted.

"He has murdered cities, princess, he is not your savior." Dyanj said loudly, his chest swelling with pride at being the first to confront the wizard.

"He has changed. He will not hurt you!" She screamed. "Please, leave us!"

But Dyanj advanced the wizard and the maiden. The Black Corna growled and slung his sword first only to find the opposite blade and listen to the sickening clash of weapons. Miranda screamed for them to stop as she backed away, lifting her fingers to her lips. The Black Corna and Dyanj battled for what seemed hours, each taking their turns in damaging the other.

It happened so quickly. Dyanj's sword fell upon Miranda's father and sliced his side brutally. The wizard fell to his knees, making a sound as the life started to fade from his eyes. Miranda screamed as she watched him fall.

Dyanj looked down at the man by his feet and exhaled raggedly before he turned to look at Miranda. Her eyes were wide as his found hers. He advanced towards her and gripped her hand. She protested, trying to pull her hand free. He blocked her view of her withering father on the stone floor. She screamed for him, the whole while Dyanj pulled her.

Then his fingers stilled and his body grew stoic. Dyanj eyes grew wide and his breathing became troubled as he let go of Miranda and fell to his knees.

The maiden looked at the man shaking on the floor then she looked at the Black Corna stretching his fingers out to Dyanj and she realized he was using the rest of his magic. Dyanj took his last breath; his eyes grew still before Miranda stepped around him and to her father's side. Her cloak covered half of her father's body, rich in the pool of his blood.

Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked down to him and cradled his deformed face. He brought his hand up to grip hers at his cheek and he breathed irregularly.

"You used all of your magic." She whimpered. "How can I heal you?" She desperately wailed.

Her father shook his head slightly. "I have lived thousands of years. It is my time to go."

Miranda's face expressed her sorrow. "No!"

"I have created many children through the ages, my dear, but I have never created one that I truthfully loved as I love you. I have wronged you. Taken you from the ones you loved. But I never meant to hurt you. I never knew that for you to belong to me you would have to love me."

Miranda nodded. She knew.

"I love you. And I do forgive you."

Her father looked up to her, his black eyes dimming. "Will you sing the song? The one I heard you sing in your room?"

Miranda frowned slightly, her eyes flickering with confusion, but complied. Her voice was soft and broken with soft sobs, but still pure in its form. She looked at him the entirety of the time, smiling slightly as to encourage him. He opened his mouth as if to sing the last verse with her but no sound came.

The Black Corna smiled weakly and Miranda leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek and as she pulled back, she watched his eyes slide shut. Her father had passed from her world to another.

"Goodbye." Were the princess' last words. Her dark curls framed her face and she clung to him when she heard the cries of the angry men below. She kissed his forehead before she stood up, her cloak smearing the blood on the floor, and looked out to the window to see a tree perching near. She climbed the stones to reach the top before she gripped the branch that looked sturdiest. Lowering herself until her feet touched the snow, the princess ran into the deepest corners of the woods. Leaving behind the man who had given her life to be handled by the infuriated common men.

She turned once more to look up to the tower and sighed with sorrow.

The princess formed her lips into a thin line as she ran through the woods, seeking shelter from her broken heart. She never returned to her family. She was a wanderer in the woods for years. Legends tell that the maiden can be seen in the darkest moments wearing the blood-stained cloak and always accompanied by a stag believed to be the Black Corna in spirit.

The legend is has told the story of a young princess who found peace with a demon whose heart was softened by the angelic child.

The princess was never captured or spoken to since her disappearance; she lives only in the wind.

Talia frowned down to the page and parted her lips in shock. She trailed her fingers along the smooth picture on the page and looked into the illustration of Miranda's eyes. She could see right through Talia, as if she was truthfully there in spirit.

The Black Corna, sinister and dark, redeemed himself in spite of all he had wronged. The man, who the world made out to be so evil, was lonely. He made children and took them when they were of age, but Talia wondered why Miranda was different. And how, of course, she softened his heart. She turned the pages, looking back to the place she had stopped earlier to read on from then, when there was a knock at her door.

She lifted the book from her lap and stretched, lifting her body from her place in the chair. She walked over to the door and swung it open. Her father stood there and looked down on her. She smiled.

On rare occasions, Ra's Al Ghul would meet his daughter in her chambers after he returned from a mission, mostly to let her know he had returned. It was thoughtful, a thing Talia didn't notice until she got older and by then he did not visit nearly as much as he had before.

"Hello." She began, turning her body so he could enter the small room. Talia was still very young, she didn't need nearly as much.

He walked passed her and nodded, a weak smile on his face "Good afternoon, my dear. Have you been well since I departed?"

Talia walked over to the chair and closed the book, setting it on the floor. "I have. Usama gave me literature, she wishes to strengthen my Arabic by feeding me legends of their past."

Ra's looked down to the book on the floor. "Have you enjoyed them? I assumed they were all of creatures and eastern gods. You have never shown proper interest in those."

Talia tilted her head to the side, observing the book as well. "They were, I flipped through those. I enjoyed one in particular however. It was about a princess. I have not read many of those. What exactly is one? What is required of them?"

"They lead, my dear. They are born to reign. The strongest ones find comfort in their people, and understand their values." He answered, his voice mellow. "They are heiresses. They inherit what their parents leave behind."

"But she didn't inherit anything. She was left nothing." Talia frowned, that didn't make sense.

"It is only a story, Talia." Ra's chuckled. "Do not trouble yourself."

Talia looked down at her fingers and nodded slowly.

"I came to see if you wished to dine with me. It has been a long time since I have been home and I wish good company for my first meal back. Will you do that for me?" He asked. His polite tone seemed genuine enough.

Talia looked up and smiled before she nodded and leaned down to pick up her book. She would return it to Usama. "She did not die. It is legend that she can still be seen in the dark woods. They say she lives in the wind; that she is everlasting."

She began walking to her door and her father followed, his face curious. "She has interested you intently. What was her name?"

Talia inhaled, her fingers tightening around the leather binding. "Miranda." She closed her eyes for a moment. "It's a beautiful name."

---

His eyes were a terrifying blue; more stark then than she had ever seen. His face composed with emotions unspoken, his mute persona was one Talia was not used to seeing. He looked shocked, of course. But there was an underlying thankfulness to his expression that Talia could not explain.

How dare he think she would return to him with such love?

She kept her face calm, trying her hardest to remain poise. He told him. Crane had informed him of her arrival. And honestly, did she even begin to think that he would have kept it a secret?

It was simple, shockingly, that she could access him so effortlessly. She imagined it would have been harder, but perhaps the fact that her intent was to let her future lay in his palm made her hopes of escaping narrow. She wanted to return to Bane. To M'har.

But she knew to appease her father and for him to retract his claws from the flesh of her loved ones, she needed to settle her wars. She needed to end them.

Ra's stance was one of a man who looked to have seen a ghost. She wondered the reason behind it. Sure she had been gone for months. She had left him in spite of everything. But even he was not one to startle quite so long. She lifted her eyes to his.

"Hello, father." Her words were simple, opaque. She had no emotion behind them. She knew what she had to do and she knew what it meant she had to lose. She felt the sorrow in her abdomen at the sense of loss.

She pressed her teeth tightly together, thinking hard of how Bane would never forgive her for leaving. The decision was not instant; she knew this was the only way, but her heart ached like never before. She wished she could have told him goodbye. And in the occasion that, had she not met Crane, she would have, in her most subtle way endured. But she had no time to forge a goodbye, and now, she stood before her father, knowing nothing of her future.

There was no time between them. She seemed just as old as he as she stood across from him, her arms calmly placed at her side.

He didn't move; didn't flinch. He was so partial to remaining still that Talia was sure he was frozen stiff. She didn't smile. Her face was completely emotionless. This was what she needed to do.

"You came back."

His words were completely wrong. Talia felt a stir in her stomach as she heard them. The very voice she used to praise seemed now so very, very wrong. She had lived months without his voice, yet still, the familiarity of it was like knives on her skin. She resisted a shiver to claim her. Her lips parted slightly from the pain in her abdomen, letting out soft breaths and feeling the ice climb up from her stomach to her throat.

She didn't know where to begin. She barely even knew how to speak to her own father. The terrifying bit was that she had no resolve. She was starting to deteriorate. Talia clenched her fists and set her jaw.

Farewell. She silently thought to Bane and whomever beyond may hear. There was no denying. There was no escaping now. She inhaled softly.

"I have; on the occasion that I may bargain myself for your gracious service in return for the freedom of your wrath elsewhere." Her words were steady, surprising her, and she lifted her eyes to meet his.

Her father was silent. She had never seen him so disconnected. As if he was unsure of how to act. His posture was something Talia always admired because he always seemed able to maintain a balance even in the harshest of moments. She wondered if indeed it was her that had dissolved his poise.

There was a long pause before Talia broke the silence.

"Did you miss me?" She was unable to refrain from asking. Her teeth clenched as she felt the poison in her stomach, gripping and stinging. She honestly wondered if she even crossed his mind. His soldier; created only for the purpose of a cause. His daughter started to doubt his love.

She started to doubt hers as well.

She had given as much love as she thought possible in return for a devastating truth.

"Your departure did things to me you cannot imagine." He answered, his form starting to take on the look of the father she used to remember. "The loss I felt was-"

"Did your loss of an heir humble you, or did you actually miss your daughter?" Talia pressed her lips together, succumbing the need to scoff as she interrupted quickly. She spat. She tried her hardest to keep the anger underneath, but she knew there was no way to fully speak to him without an ounce of her hatred.

Ra's straightened and opened his mouth to reply, finding it difficult to formulate an answer.

Talia didn't let him speak, however. "I will never forgive you for what you did to him."

The silence was thick and her throat had the same feeling. She dared not close her eyes like she wished to. She felt warmth wrap dangerously around her bones. There was a severe pain between her ribs, seizing her and controlling. She shifted her jaw and touched her tongue to her teeth to suppress a sound of agony. It had hit her like a bullet. She didn't realize just how well she hid the feeling until it came impacting her, full on.

Her father looked at her, his facial features hard, but she could see something deep within him that showed her who her true father was before he became so malevolent.

"Was it never enough… that I was content?" She whispered.

"Your happiness was my only focus." He replied, quickly this time. Talia turned her head, her face morphing in disgust.

"You lie as quickly as you breathe!" She shouted, her whole face feeling tense as she struggled to maintain her focus. "How can you say that to me? I have been nothing to you. You have treated me with absolutely no…"

Respect. Dignity. Love. Care. She trailed off when she couldn't find an answer.

Nothing. He didn't give her what he should have.

"I have given you everything." She said instead. "I have given you my power; my strength. I have allowed you to dissect my mind, to poison it and manipulate my undying loyalty. I have given you what was left of my mother. Of your wife. The love that she blessed me with, I have bestowed upon you. She spoke very little of you; perhaps from the pain of the memory. Just as I had when I never spoke of Bane. Words tarnished the memory and could morph them into something they were not. My beautiful mother, so strong and wise, told me once of your name. She only told me once, and I remembered!"

Ra's eyes widened from their narrowed state. He seemed genuinely shocked. From what, Talia did not know. She looked to him, her heart pleading.

"Henri. She told me your name was Henri. A mercenary who worked for her father. At the time I did not know the purpose of the word. I did not know the significance of you upon her. I only knew your name." She paused, shifting a bit. "It was not until she was murdered that I truthfully made a decision to remember it. "

She looked to him, her blue eyes piercing. "And my dearest friend, my selfless protector, he sheltered me from the depths of that hell." Her fingernails stabbed her palms intently as she squeezed her fingers into fists at her side. "He has performed no crime."

Ra's stood stoic as he listened. She wondered why he had not interrupted her already. She continued, however.

"I cannot forgive you for what has been done." She spoke, her voice like liquid. "Bane told me. He told me everything."

She looked to her father. No signs indicated that he did not already assume that Bane did. He shifted his gaze to the floor and exhaled loudly.

"You let them experiment on me. You killed your men in the process; knowing that my dearest friend, your recruit, was with them. You have disregarded my whole self, for the sake of your deliberate needs. And you staged the death of the man who has been my only salvation because you were scared of my defiance." Her face turned sad with pity at her father. She felt sorry for him, that he indeed could not see his wrong ways. "You were terrified of losing your heir."

Ra's remained the same, looking on to her face as she spoke. She trembled then, her head turning so she could focus on something else. She thought to the moments that had occurred in the past and just how much evil stained them, truthfully.

"And when you did, you could not let me be free." She muttered, her eyes looking down to her palms. "He very nearly killed me."

Ra's frowned, finally responding. "Who?"

"Do you remember one of your men, the year I fell through the ice, who asked you for time of leave to visit his daughter?" She asked, her eyes dimming. She watched him nod and continued. "You had refused. He then came to me, hoping that I could persuade you otherwise. I had intensions to. But I became sick, and I never asked. She died when I was recovering. That man has harbored hatred for me through all of these years, stabilizing a personal vendetta that was unleashed the moment you ordered him and countless others, I assume, to retrieve me. I had to kill a man whose hatred was the only thing that drove him. I had to murder him to protect myself. If you would have let me go, he would still be alive."

She gripped the rimming of the dark tunic and grimaced.

"He disobeyed orders. I only wished to speak to you." Her father stated, his greying hair looking dark in the lighting of the room. He did not look desperate, but something about his tone was pleading. She frowned at that. "If he was alive, I would have punished him for hurting you, Talia-"

"Just as you punished her? And Bane?"

Ra's stopped, swallowing his retort. "What?"

"The woman. Needles. Just as you punished her for doing what you asked. Is that why she let us go? …Because you ordered her to? And when you excommunicated him? Bane. "

Talia paused, an epiphany forming and tearing her apart as she realized fully what that meant. "You blamed them…" She began, her lips parting in shock. "You wronged them all."

She inhaled sharply and covered her mouth with her thin fingers. "You knew Bane would not stop once he heard me scream, and you let him come to find me because you knew that meant he would disobey you. And you told her that we needed to escape to come back to you, and that would make you a hero, therefore when she did, you murdered her." She opened her mouth in astonishment and let out a sorrowful noise. "You made up reasons for your actions but they are rich with evil."

She looked to him and frowned, looking as if she was resisting the urge to cry. "Why?" She pleaded. Her voice turned into a scream. "Why would you do that?"

"After what they did to you, you honestly pity her?" He asked, his face growing hard.

"After what you did to me!" She yelled. "You! I pity you and the fact that you cannot see what you have done!" She emphasized the last word; growling, using the edges of her tones to cut deepest. But there was a certain sorrow as well. She looked up to him with such loss and anger, disappointment and sorrow. It was then that she felt her heart swell with the sadness she felt within. She was powerless to stop the tears, she was unable to continue any form of control.

"Why did you do that to me?" Her fingers covered her eyes and she sobbed. "…Why?" She shook with each breath and fell to her knees across from him, clutching her abdomen with her left hand. She opened her mouth and tried to let out her anger, but it was silent. She made no sound but the occasional exclamation of her mourning.

"I taught you sacrifice." He began, his body moving to hers at the floor. "I trained you, making you impervious to pain. The ultimate warrior... You see, pain is not worse in the physical form. The most scarring form is of the mind. I had to make you mentally prepared, and feel the terrible lengths of it. Familiarize yourself with it. In the end, you would know the pain and be able to never let it interfere with yourself. I had to eliminate weakness from you. I had to strip you of your love, even if it meant taking away your love for me. And Bane, of course. His love for you was too strong. I could not have it affecting you to the point where you would someday return-"

"I love him." She interrupted, her voice cutting his off. It was so sudden that he seemed to choke on his finished sentence. Whatever words were left were diminished as he paused, completely still and he looked to her. Her eyes stared at the floor and she set her jaw. His eyes were opened wide and he looked as if he stopped breathing. His face was cleaned of its reasoning and instead claimed a terrifyingly motionless look.

She inhaled loudly, pressing her lips together. She had never fully said those three words aloud. Or even to herself in the quiet excess of her mind. There was never a need. She knew.

Her fingers touched the floor as she felt her father's gaze on her skin. She turned her eyes to his and she saw something there, something terrifying. Horrible and grotesque. Like fire. But most of all she saw pain. She could feel it as if he projected it upon her. The tears forming at the edges of her eyes were set free once she blinked and the liquid stained her cheeks, rolling down to the fabric of her tunic. She exhaled quietly. She didn't know what she was to say.

She didn't know what he had to say either.

"I love him as my mother loved you..." She started, her voice thick. "And all of that pain and sacrifice, I have felt it as well. I have been invested within it. It has modeled me. Hardened, definitely. I know pain, father. I know it like a well-spoken tale. But I cannot be free of it." She looked up to him and felt another tear fall. "Love is not weakness. You only feel so because you were unable to sustain yours long enough to know that it is life, pure and simple. It breeds warmth to everything it touches. You look at it as if it has crippled you; as if loving her was what caused the tragedy of her death and your sorrow. You did not sentence her to the Pit. She sacrificed herself. Your exile was the very truth that she loved you enough to take your place. Is that weak in comparison to if she would have left you there? She lived with her sacrifice for your life. That was her love. The selfless, pure, agile love that I feel for him. It is not weakness. Love is the very opposite."

Ra's remained speechless at her side. She stood up slowly and fiddled with the hem of her tunic once more and wiped her tears. She walked away from his side, not wanting to be near him.

"I am not like you." Talia whispered. "I will not look on love as an imprisonment. I have given you more than necessary, but all with the grace of a good heart. All I have ever done was for you. I wanted to be like her, like my mother, but I have come to realize that you will always find fault with me. Because I am not her, nor will I ever be. I have tried, that is all that I care to know now. Through my sacrifice, I honor her in the memory of one just as equal. For to save the one I love, I must settle this war by giving up what means most. And if appeasing you means I never leave here, then I must comply."

She turned to find him looking at her.

"My happiness was never your first concern." She said, her eyes deep with melancholy.

She did something then that she found was surprising even to herself. She moved towards her father. Pausing only a step away, she lightly clenched her teeth around the inside of her cheek. He did not calm his stance in front of her.

But she was suddenly at peace.

"I cannot excuse your actions." She started, her blue eyes clear. "But I will endure, for the sake of his happiness. Just as my mother did. Both just in equal hells." Her face calm as she faced him. She was not afraid. Not anymore. "You have become more heartless than I allow myself to bear. And I don't know how you live with all of your tragedy in the manner that you do." She looked up to his eyes and placed her fingers over his heart hesitantly as she thought she never would again. She was not projecting love. She was feeling if there even was a vibration under her fingers. "I have suffered as much as you, but I am not isolated. I am not frozen in my agony. You have become cold; more bitter and irate with time even as you claim to have suppressed your pain."

Her calm nature was foreign. Yet she finally felt able to set herself free of her fears and of her conquests because she had given all that she may and in return she received an assurance of some power far beyond that was unexplainable. She shifted her eyes from both of her father's, trying to find something more in one than the other, perhaps.

She felt a shiver run down her spine and to the depths of her toes and then return to her core. She had given too much. But her defeat was not without reward. She calmly closed her eyes and breathed. The release was peaceful.

She moved her fingers from his chest and dropped them to her side. She looked into his eyes. "I will always be your daughter." She stated, her face calm enough to look at him without trouble. His face was unreadable. "But I cannot forgive you. And time will not change that."

Time seemed endless then, as she finally seemed to finish all that she needed to say. And time was a friend, one that did not forget.

Ra's Al Ghul. Her father, Henri Ducard. The mercenary who fell in love only to be torn from his beloved. The man who earned his name in translation as the Demon's Head. The idol she praised since her youth. The same man who wished for her company on days that he returned from missions and the very same man that taught her how to stay alive. The one who trained her. Her source of faith and deliverance. The one who fought her in the physical and the one she defied in the spiritual. The very same man who brought back Bane. And the man who took him from her once more. The one who staged an abduction and proceeded with treatments of unkind experimentation. The very one who seemed to care so little for her. He was still the man who had killed countless, though at the time it seemed futile, which now made him animalistic and cruel. The man who had taken her friend from her. The very man who loved in such a fragile and complex way that it seemed too unlike love to even begin. The man with so many faces.

He advanced towards her, slowly, and she stayed in her place, looking into his eyes; wondering. He moved closer and he looked deeply into her orbs, trying to find something she could not understand. A vortex of emotions was plainly written in his eyes, and she caught as many emotions as she could. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. Pain. Disappointment.

She saw it all.

She inhaled tiredly and closed her eyes, ready to hear his piece. She expected a reciprocated response. One that would contradict her and tell her that she was wrong.

She waited a long time.

He made a sound after an eternity of waiting. Perhaps it was an exhale or something more but it made Talia open her eyes to look at him with confusion. He clenched his jaw and looked to her, but this time there was a different expression that was in his eyes.

She just couldn't name it.

He looked for one long minute into her eyes, taking note of every aspect of her face. It had been months, what seemed forever, since he had last seen her. She wondered what he was studying and the purpose behind it.

He inhaled sharply and backed his face away. She looked into his eyes and there was a certain sadness to them that she could not explain. Sadness mixed with irritation, or something less than it. Maybe it was disappointment as she had seen before. She looked to him, her blue eyes glistening and she wondered what was to come next.

He looked at her longingly, and for one second she seemed to wonder about herself. She knew she was not incorrect about what she felt for his deeds. She knew he was wrong. But she pitied him in that instant, and the only thing she wanted was for the pain in her abdomen to go away.

She clenched her jaw. It had been done.

Sighing deeply and turning his back to her and without looking back, her father walked to the door and exited. It had happened so quickly that it seemed a trick played of the mind. She stood there, frozen in shock and wondered if he left to get something and he was going to return. But he didn't.

She stood in the room, in the exact position as before, for what seemed hours when Jonathan entered. "He has ordered you to remove yourself from the perimeter and return to where you came. He is not in need of your services."

Talia frowned and turned her head down, lost in confusion. "I-….I'm free to go?"

Crane held a particular expression, one of a haughty complexion. "Did you ever doubt you would be, Monarch?" He smirked then and bore his icy blue eyes into hers. "Until the future." He said as some farewell.

She stood there lost in thought and looked what must seem a mess of emotion when she watched Jonathan walk to the frame of the door. He paused before he exited, however, and turned to look at her.

"I forgot to mention… he suggests you leave Gotham instantly."

Talia frowned slightly as she used the tips of her fingers to wipe just under her eyelids and diminish the tears. "Why?" She genuinely had no idea the purpose behind the request.

But Crane did not answer. He merely turned his head and left the room. Talia looked around the area and was lost in her astonishment. She was free? Had the sole thought of being locked here terrorize her for days suddenly seem to have lost its purpose and indeed be so very much unlike the future? She used her moist tongue to dampen her dry lips as she lifted her fingers to graze them and feel her shocked breath against her digits. She closed her eyes and took a minute, a second, to be completely thankful in return. To whom, however, she couldn't identify.

Still seeming to not believe, she stood still. It was not until the minutes seemed to drag along that she finally moved her feet. Hesitant and fearful that he would indeed change his mind, she moved to the door and walked from the room.

Outside of the deserted house, she walked. She did not know where her feet were taking her, she just felt her body move. The rows of withered crops were haunting as the sky was very, very dark. She moved to the end of the property, her eyes scanning the night sky and her surroundings when her eyes fell on what looked like the tail light of a vehicle. She clenched her jaw and noticed a man standing by the door, staring at her as well.

"Where are you to go?" He asked.

She sighed. Talia knew that she would have to go home now, wherever that was, and never look back to relive her memories. She thought to all that she had said and all that she was to sacrifice for the love she felt and she wondered why she felt so hollow. Why she felt so completely numb.

She bit the inside of her lower lip as she remembered how he didn't look back at her. He had left without even a form of goodbye. She sighed with disappointment. There was very muted rage, for her pity and her sorrow outweighed it.

She could not forget and she could not exonerate. She left with bile in her throat. She left with nothing.

She looked to the man who opened the vehicle door for her and she inhaled sharply, trying to eliminate all that she felt for her father. She would always remember, and that made the reality cold.

She knew that this man was to take her far away and she swallowed all of the discomfort in her stomach. Because she was going back to him.

And that was enough, thoroughly.

"Gotham." She muttered, her eyes lowering. "Quickly."

---

Gotham was cold that evening; the night sky only making matters worse for Talia could not see the moon. The street lights were a dimmed yellow and they illuminated the empty street. It was past midnight, not many citizens were even awake. She looked down the sidewalk and passed a few stores, searching the streets for a taxi to take her back to her apartment.

She wanted to see Bane, honestly and more than anything, but at the moment she knew she needed to reach her apartment. She would then make her way to Bane. She needed a few minutes to collect herself before she faced him. Before she could face anyone. She felt the heat in her head and the pressure from all the tensing she had done each time she looked at her father.

The wind picked up quickly and blew from behind Talia. Her tunic stuck to her body more fittingly and her hair tangled around her face. She watched the leaves from the trees and the edges of an old newspaper brush by her feet and then she felt the rush of cold liquid splatter on her skin. It came in small amounts at first, only seeming a fair amount of drizzle, before the rain fell savagely from the heavens.

Talia inhaled sharply, her face turning up to the skies. At first she cowered from the rain, her first instinct was to find shelter. But she turned her eyes towards the clouds and let the water drench her hair and her clothing. It felt like bullets on her skin.

Her fingers left her sides as she lifted them forward and she made a sound that was mixed with acceptance and sorrow. One that suffocated her. Her shaking fingers reached out slightly as she felt the rain cleaning her body as each drop made a new impact with her skin. She felt the heat behind her eyelids and the moisture from within.

It was a release; complete with all that she had suffered within and it completely broke her. It was rich, the feeling of rain against her skin, and though she shivered and there was the physical discomfort, she did not mind.

She slowly turned her eyes back to the streets that were now being drenched in the water. She turned a corner and found a taxi rounding it as well. She turned on her heel and held out her hand. The vehicle slowed and Talia walked over to it, sliding in quickly to escape the rain.

---

She twisted the key and entered the small apartment's door without trouble. The rain had slowed but she had access to too much of it, so she was still very wet and felt horridly ill from the moisture thick in her bones. It was dark, no doubt of it, but she did not turn on the lights. She didn't wish to feel the glow on her skin, oddly as it seemed.

She walked past the lone chair at the table and raked her fingers through her wet tangles. She knew she needed to shower.

She did not see the figure behind her before she felt their arms around her abdomen and pulling her upright and to an unseen location. She screamed with genuine terror and felt her body being turned and slammed against the wall of the East corner. The huge forearm of the intruder pressed against her collarbone and she inhaled sharply from the pain.

"How dare you do that, Talia!" He growled with heat and his pressure applied more but not enough to completely make her whimper with the pain. It was more from the fear. His voice gritted behind the metal of his mask and she felt as if he was grinding his teeth together closely from the anger.

It was first only his forearm then it was his full body, crushing hers against the wall so that she could find no escape.

"Bane?" She rasped, her eyes wide. Why was he putting her in such a painful position? She gasped as his arm left her and he turned, his eyes wild with rage unforeseen. Talia slid down a bit, propping her body against the wall to keep her steady. Her fingers reached her throat and felt the pressure that had been applied just below it.

"What-" She began, but he silenced her and turned with rage.

"I thought you died!" He bellowed, his voice haunting her through every aspect of her body. He was so loud. "You left without any form of indication. Barsad had to inform me that you were entering a taxi with a stranger. Do you know how many possibilities I added up in my head to conclude what had happened to you consequently? Your disappearance had me believe the worst! Damn you, you selfish woman!"

He stepped forth and gripped her elbow tightly, yanking her without care and she winced at his strength.

He was fuming, obviously, but Talia could feel something in his posture that was so foreign to him. She breathed sharply as her wide eyes bore into his.

There were seconds, or perhaps minutes, where it was complete silence. Her breathing stilled as she formed words.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her tears falling down her cheeks and she remained completely still.

Bane shoved her arm away and turned his back to her. "I don't want your worthless apologies." He formed a fist and tightly clenched his elbow as if to restrain from letting it hit anything. She watched him struggle with his need for release.

"It was him, wasn't it?" He growled, his voice primal as she could feel his hatred. "Has he returned?" He asked, turning to look at her.

She nodded instantly, almost afraid of his reaction.

"And you assumed what? That you would return to appease his violent intentions?" The look in his eyes told Talia that he was furious. "To settle a nonexistent debt, that would appease him?"

She shook her head and opened her mouth but once more he did not allow her to speak. He gripped both sides of her shoulders and shook her. "I believed you dead. That he killed you for your crimes against him. I thought you dead, Talia. For countless times before, but I have reached the limit. How dare you leave? How cowardly does that make you? That you could not face me? How dare you do that to me? You egoistic woman! You are a coward-"

She lifted her palms then, and pushed against his chest, shoving harder than she believed possible. She removed herself from his grip and bared her teeth slightly. She fumed.

"I did it to save you!" She spat, her eyes thick with emotion.

"I don't need your protection!" He retorted.

She couldn't help herself, she advanced and used the knuckles in her fingers to shove against his chest once more. "You did! I would not lose you. Not again."

Bane gripped her fingers and pressed them up against the wall behind her on either side of her. "I never left you!" He accused.

"No!" She screamed. "But he would have taken you from me if I did not show him that I would enslave myself to him for the sake of your life, you bastard!"

"You think that was your decision to make?" He asked. "That it was the right thing to do?"

"It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing I knew how to do!" She hissed, her palms stinging as she hit him once more. "Your strength makes you more than able to commence protection for me. I have nothing. I do one thing, completely unselfish, and you can't even accept it!"

"Your previous actions have been the most selfish of all that you have ever done!"

"Why?" She screamed, her fury raging in her veins.

"Because you left me!" He growled, gripping her sides and practically pulling her body off of the ground and slamming into the wall. "Again!" He emphasized.

Talia winced with the pressure of his fingers, but wrapped her legs hesitantly to his waist to keep her body stable and upright. Her fingers reached for his shoulders to push him away. Her breathing was hot against his skin and she made sounds of discomfort.

Then, just as her legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers moved to hers. He gripped her harshly, but in a way she had never truthfully felt before. Only in her most delicious dreams. He shoved her body once more, pushing her as far as he could into the wall and she noticed the utter conflict in his eyes. Her fingers dug brutally into the skin at his collarbone and she groaned.

He bruised his fingers along her ribcage unintentionally and he glared into her eyes. She clenched her jaw, looking at his with just equal scorn.

She flinched for quite some time, jerking her fingers and fists to collide with his body but he only held her in place. She made her lips into a thin line as she tried to free herself from his grip.

Then he pushed her harder, urging her to dare try and continue struggling. She grunted and gasped synchronously and clenched her jaw from the pain in her spine.

Then one of his hands lowered from her waist and ran harshly down to the crease of her knee and pulled her leg more thoroughly around his waist. That was when Talia froze.

She stared wide eyed at Bane and her struggling ceased as his tough fingers pressed painfully against her leg, as if he held it any softer, she would let go.

"Bane?" She asked, as if she was unsure she was clearly establishing her thoughts and as if what he was doing in that instant was not real. Not real at all.

But his fingers felt real. And the pressure. And then he pushed.

And she pushed back.

It happened rather suddenly, and without an actually thought on it, but Talia flicked her eyes from one eye to the other, trying to search his eyes, before she moved her face to the right side of his neck. Her lips were cold and so was her skin, but he was so very, very warm. She ran her nose along the vein there, inhaling his scent.

It was a very earthy aroma.

Her nose was cold, like ice against his warmth. She melted against him, her fingers reaching up and gripping his shoulders as her lips found the skin between his mask and before his shoulder began. They were light, so agonizingly delicate, but she felt him stiffen.

Then she bit him.

It was light pressure of her teeth against his skin, but it was still a bite. She raked her teeth along the warmth and used her nails to grip him hard.

There was no turning back now.

He now had his hands under both of her knees and lifted her higher. She gasped and felt his cool mask against her cheek. He pulled her body from the wall. She was lifted high enough the she craned her head over his and let her fingers tempt his skin. She was cautious, but she was eager.

She ran her nails over his mask without care and she was sure she left scratches. He wrapped his hands around her waist and felt her body mold to his. He fell to his knees and held her upright as she brought her lips down to the section of the mask that parted down his face and pressed there fiercely. As she did, her fingers ran down his neck and hooked in the collar of his shirt.

She was on top of him, her legs on either side. She very nearly growled as his fingers pushed the fabric of her tunic higher and away from her legs. They were like sweltered iron, those fingers.

She felt his thumb push higher until they were fully underneath. She pulled away her lips to pant heatedly. Her own fingers found the bottom of his shirt and she exhaled with disappointment when she found no skin, but the brace wrapped around his waist. She yanked higher at the fabric and she searched for skin.

She sought to his shirt being removed. It took time, but she was able to free him of it. As she did and it was gone, he wrapped an arm around her body and leaned her to the floor, hovering her body with his. She arched her back, trying to connect their bodies once more, but she found he had an interest at the ties of her tunic. She looked into his eyes as he pulled at the ties, freeing each one.

He opened the black fabric once the last tie was undone. Her body was formed to be feline and athletic. Her training had toned her and given her a strong build but also a feminine essence that she never fully understood. But as he looked to her, she noticed his appreciation.

She just couldn't fathom it. She had always thought he thought differently of her.

He trailed his fingers down her neck and between her ribs, all the way down to her hip bone and she inhaled and made a desperate sound.

She looked up to him, her eyes wide and a clear blue. She watched distinct emotions play across his features, but she was lost in her wonder to care about which meant the most. He breathed harshly, she could feel the agitation in his system underneath her fingers. She could feel all of his conflict.

She waited, patiently as he stared to her. She knew of nothing better to do. She was certain she could wait forever, but at the instant, she wished he would act on whichever he chose.

He pulled her suddenly, pulling her atop him. She gasped at the sudden change of positions. She sat up and looked down to him. He pulled at the edges of her tunic until it fell from her shoulders and by then, Talia watched the fabric fall from her body. She pulled her wrists from the sleeve holes and set the tunic aside. Her expression blazed.

She leaned down to cradle his face with her slender fingers and kissed his mask, wishing she could kiss him underneath. After the moment passed, she trailed her fingers down until she reached his belt.

He was rid of his clothes and by then, his fingers helped her with the last of hers. His brace was removed as well. She had never seen so much of his skin. It was inviting. She felt him sit up with her, his fingers running up the sides of her naked body and she suppressed a shiver.

She could feel him, no doubt she could, and all she wanted was to be claimed. To be his. She felt his need for her, and she raked her fingernails down the side of his neck to prove her need as well. Her body was pulsing.

She remembered his rage. All that he had said. That he was furious that she left without even telling him. That he figured for the countless time that something horrible had happened to her. And she remembered how that fury led to this. She knew he didn't understand. She knew that he might never fully.

But at least now she knew that that rage, all of that fury, it was because he needed her. In the same, if even, form that she needed him. She knew then that there was love. An underlying bond. She knew that his fury came from his loss.

And she squeezed her fingers along his shoulders at the thought of it.

Her lips were on the edge of his mask, just below his eye, when he joined their bodies. Her surprised breaths came out in jagged form. She made heated exhales and her heart was pounding. The sensation was one she had never experienced and she bruised his body with the pressure of her fingers. She took a minute to adjust to the feel of him connected to her, but then she decided she could move.

Bane struggled to maintain. She could feel his body clenching, trying to hold onto her. She laid them both to the floor and moved against him in a beautiful pace. The friction of her body against his was delicious.

Her head was in the croon of his neck then, using her teeth to graze his skin once more as she suppressed a cry from within. She felt on fire. The motions they made sent her into oblivion. He set his hands at her waist and pressed, so harshly that she was sure she would be sore.

Talia had spent too long imagining her love for this man. In the instant that she knew he reciprocated, there was no holding back. She pushed at his side and flipped their bodies so that he was then on top. Letting him do whatever he wanted. Willingly letting him take charge.

His face fell to lie on her left shoulder as he moved. She let out a ragged breath and arched her back to feel any more that she could. She needed it all.

Her fingers danced down his spine, sliding over each notch. She gasped as his movements did something inside of her that indicated she was near completion. But she wondered how she could ever get enough to satisfy.

He wrapped his arms under her waist and pulled along her arched back, holding her body close.

There was a dimmed flame, one that became more profound. Talia could feel it blazing her skin. Scorching her every inch. Bane's movements were faster and more direct then. Her body was in flames. Her bones were laced with tantalizing emotions and she stabbed his skin with her nails.

She felt an effervescent sensation seize her. The fire was being fed. It was rich in pleasures. Her heart was coursing and she knew that she had reached the apogee of the action. Her bones brittle as she arched her body and tried to hang to the sensation.

Bane followed her. His fingers curling along her waist and the metal of his mask scraping along her throat line. He clung to her like a prayer, pulling her body upwards and closer to his. Her rich skin was silk on his.

She smelled like the rain and sorrow and beauty. His fingers slid up to the sides of her ribs and his face fell along her shoulder. She panted above him and he could feel her body shake. She was descending from her high. From her place in the heavens.

Talia's wet hair clung to her heated body as she tried to comprehend the heat from within. It was unearthly. Unlike anything she had ever felt. Her breaths were hot against his head. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers on each side of his face, turning her cheek and resting her head.

His anger and all of her love. All of his emotions and her conclusions. All of her understanding and his time. All of her patience and his need. All of his love and her anger.

It added up. It twined like a vine that infected the plants surrounding and could not die. It was like a festering idea. It was pure creation. It was that selfless, pure, agile love that she felt for him.

And in return, what he felt for her.

She knew that it would have to be discussed. That she would have to speak to him, sometime and in the future.

But for the moment, she pressed her cheek against the edge of his brow and felt the warmth inside of her.

And she knew that the day that followed, there would be no rain.

---

A/N: THEY FINALLY HAD SEX. THEY FINALLY GOT TOGETHER. AND MOST OF ALL, BANE REVEALED HIS FEELING FOR HER.

Isn't it all so sudden? Well I will show you the run down of it next chapter, but for now mwahaha.

Okay, first off let me say that I have to get up in four hours and this is a super late entry. I am really pushing myself. And this may look sloppy, I'm too lazy to check it and I'm tired and please just overlook those grammar errors, will you?

Thanks!

I'm completely finished with school so I hope to get the new chapter up near Christmas, but I can't promise anything.

Please tell me that at least one of you liked the folk tale that I made up. I thought of it as a way to show a relationship between a "princess" and this demon father that was redeemable. I originally wasn't going to have the princess be named "Miranda" but instead "Marina" because I love the name Marina. But I thought of how much a story like that might impact a little girl and how when chosing a name for a role Talia wanted to play, it would be one that she looked up to. It's really short and it wasn't explained very much but I have plans to tie it in later, so don't worry.

And as for the Bane/Talia intimate scene, I wanted pure raw energy. I wanted hatred from both sides and I wanted it to have this pure depth that is so them. I wanted to show him kind of jerking her around a bit because he knows she can handle it but that's not the point. It's the fact that he feels betrayed and he feels like she's stupid for thinking that was the only way, when it honeslty was. He's just stubborn. And I wanted Talia to snap back because she's furious at him for not even giving her credit.

AND I WANT TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS.

Please review for me, I mean, I wrote what everyone's been waiting for. Even if it's two words. ANY words would be nice.

Especially since I'm staying up super late finishing this chapter when I know I am camping tomorrow and I hate camping to the pits of hell (or maybe to the depths of THE Pit, eh? Eh?) Your words would really lighten my mood and I won't feel the need to bitch to my family about making me go.

I look forward to writing what comes next, and I want to thank you again for sticking with me.

I seriously love you.