A/N: Thank you to Jayto for being my beta this time!
Today's title is a quote from Nicholas Evans, but thanks to a review by Baruga it also has a subtitle: "Robin's Gonna Do Something Amazingly Moronic And Get Himself Stuck In Irreversible Deep Shit". Yup.
By Royal Command
Chapter 21: It's a Lot Like Nuts and Bolts - If the Rider's Nuts, the Horse Bolts!
No matter what you felt for them during their life, waking up on the morning of a parent's funeral is always going to create a feeling that you will carry with you for the rest of your life. Robin's thoughts were preoccupied with these emotions, so he didn't remember the king's words until he entered the sitting room and saw the man waiting for him.
"Go away," the prince almost sighed. "It's my father's funeral today, can't you just leave me alone?"
"No. How's your cheek?"
"How's yours?" Robin sneered.
"Maybe you shouldn't remind your King of your act of treason?" the man smirked.
Robin just turned away from him in disgust and sat down to eat his breakfast. Unfortunately the man joined him.
"I have two things to discuss with you this morning. Your attitude, which I have noticed has not improved, and the attack on you."
"As I am holding cutlery, could we start with the attack? Or we'll have another royal funeral soon," Robin said in a fake cheerful way.
"Yes, but it wouldn't be mine…" the man muttered darkly. "Bringing up your parents last night was maybe a bit…uncalled for. I apologize," Slade said, receiving a curt nod from the prince before continuing. "Your attacker has been identified. His name was Fredrik Viceroy, is the name familiar?"
"No, not really… I think I've heard the family name, but I can't place it," Robin mused, deciding to be civil for this conversation at least. "How come he was even there? I thought the gathering was for the more… important people."
"All houses had the right to attend... I'm not going to exclude anyone at this point… but he didn't spend much time at court, nor do any of his kin. He was a low ranking aristocrat with quite a few problems. He drank… gambled…"
"And hated me, obviously."
"Not according to his widow. She claims he never even spoke ill of royalty when he was drunk… and on those occasions he seemed to speak ill of everyone."
"Widow… great… did he have children as well?"
"Quite a few."
"Can… that is… can something be sent to them?"
"Is that such a good idea?"
"Well, judging by what you have told me the attack wasn't his idea. Someone put him up to it."
"Interesting. That was my feeling too."
"Then see to it that they are compensated in some way," Robin ordered. The king merely smirked and nodded at being given a command. The prince didn't even notice he was doing it, though, as he was busy thinking. "A drunk and a gambler… that means he has debts. Probably big ones."
"Yes."
"So look for someone who has pockets deep enough to easily cover them. That would be incentive enough for the assassination attempt, perhaps."
"Very good Robin, that's exactly what we are doing," the man smiled.
"Don't be condescending, it didn't take a genius," the prince snorted.
"I didn't intend to-" the man began, but then seemed to change his mind. "Anyway, we're looking into it."
Robin didn't answer and focused on his food instead. His stomach felt a bit tight and he wasn't really hungry, but there wasn't anything else to do but eat. He didn't really want to continue talking to the king, after all. Eventually he found that he had a question, however.
"If you want to run my life, maybe you can explain to me what my duties are now… will I have audiences as usual?"
"No… not quite yet, at least. Not on your own in any case… the matter of your title is still being discussed."
"Discussed? I'm a prince! On my eighteenth birthday I will be old enough to be crowned and-"
"No."
"No?" Robin stared at the man incredulously.
"If Bruce was still alive you would have remained a prince until the time of his death."
"Yes, but he's not, and-"
"No, I took his crown. I'm the king, Robin, a country can only have one ultimate ruler."
"I see," the young man's voice was cold.
"You seem very upset for someone who was planning his abdication."
The prince sat up straighter. "That's it! I'll abdicate! You're crowned, so why can't I just abdicate and leave? Forget this 'marriage', I could-"
"No."
"I'm beginning to hate hearing that word. Why not?"
"Sometimes I think you haven't heard it enough in your life," Slade snorted. "I became king based on my binding vow to marry you. If I don't, the laws will unravel. Unless you die."
"You could take the chance that no one will oppose you? I mean with your army outside the gates-"
"There is no army."
"What? But I was told that you said-"
"A lie to push Bruce into accepting a duel. I have forces, Robin, a small unit is on its way here to act as security for the wedding."
"But… how many men do you have here right now?"
"Around fifty of my own. Blackgate and Sprang River's men more than cover what I need to keep the peace though. Most military forts lay within their jurisdiction, and thus, now, under mine. Adding the Lords who now actively support me and not just sworn their fidelity, I would say that I have full control over about eighty percent of the swords in this country. It doesn't mean that I trust them, but…"
"But you took over the castle with just fifty?! You could all have been slaughtered!"
"With better security, yes," the man smirked. "Which is why I needed to be on the inside. Close to the court. I hope you understand that?"
Robin leaned back in his chair and met the man's gaze dead on.
"I understand your reasons, yes. But that doesn't change what you did. I need you to understand something, Deathstroke…"
"Yes?" the man asked, as the pause seemed to drag out.
"You betrayed me. Me," the prince emphasized calmly. "You have reasons for what you did; sensible and logical reasons. You needed this country to take advantage of Blüdhaven's wealth, you needed to be able to move around the castle somewhat freely and be privy the any plans the royalty had. I understand. But you weren't just a servant or a slave to me, Your Majesty. You could have stayed impersonal, but instead you… didn't. You had me trust you. Open up to you. Tell you all my hopes and fears. Make me feel… seen… listened to… and it was all a lie. All of it. You meant nothing of it, I meant nothing to you… and this is what I need you to understand: I. Hate. You. Notice that I'm not screaming. I'm not even very angry. I hate you, I despise you and I loathe you. You are the lowest piece of scum on this earth for what you did to me and I will make you pay, somehow… I will stand by you so the country won't become damaged, yes, but in private? Don't for a single moment think that we will become friends, Deathstroke. Don't fool yourself into believing that I'm really on your side. You might have spared the prince's life, but as far as you are concerned Robin died that day, and so… did Slade." The prince rose slowly from his seat. "I believe it's time to follow my father to his final rest."
The service was long-winded and dull. Many noblemen held speeches and Robin couldn't help but snort as one after the other managed to somehow praise the late king while not disrespecting the current one. Fortunately, due to 'security reasons' he didn't have to hold a speech himself. In fact, the front part of the chapel where he and the king were sitting was completely surrounded by guards, so they were cut off from prying eyes, which was nice, even though the intimacy it created wasn't. The king hadn't said a word since they left Robin's chambers and for some reason the prince found himself feeling slightly guilty. He couldn't understand that feeling; all he had told the man had been the truth and why would the king care anyway?
He couldn't get away from the man's shadow, however, as they were seated together during the meal afterward. They both conversed politely with the people on their other side, but they never spoke to each other.
"And if you don't find a better attitude you will be chasing your head across the courtyard," Slade growled at the rapidly paling man. "Dismissed."
Wintergreen, who had just arrived at the king's private study, stepped aside to let the chastised man leave before arching an eyebrow at his friend.
"In a bad mood, Sir?"
"Captain Sinclair has been giving me trouble from the start. Nothing big, not at all, but things seem to take an unnecessary long time… and the excuses…"
"Talking about excuses, you haven't seen a certain young man in two days."
"Was there something else?" the king said pointedly.
His friend sighed and left a report on his desk. "Just a few numbers. They look good to me. But Slade-"
"No."
"Yes." The general rested his knuckles on the desk and leaned over it. "You have sent me on errands to the prince for two days. If he's under your skin like that… I mean, I quite like the little brat, but maybe you should just…"
"Do what? Execute him?" Slade snorted.
"No… but take what you want from him. Get him out of your system."
"Are you talking about rape?"
"So were you, when you first saw him, remember?"
"He was the enemy then… and annoying as all hell."
"Ah, I see… and now he's just lovely? Oh, by the way, he wanted me to give you a message."
"Oh? What?"
"Well… let's see… Oh, yes, 'tell the savage that I'm going out riding now, whether he wants me to or not'."
"What? When was this?"
"Oh… less than ten minutes or so ago I think… He'll have guards with him, though, so why-"
But the king was already on his way out the door.
"Stop!"
The stable boy holding the prince's horse almost pissed himself at the king's angry command. The prince, however, only looked annoyed.
"Well, it has been a nice couple of days…" he muttered, loud enough for Slade to hear.
"My Lord?" the guard, who was about to mount his own horse said, bowing quickly. "Is something wrong?"
"Who told you the Prince was allowed to go out riding?"
"You did, Deathstroke," the price answered for the guard. "You said I couldn't go riding for 'a few days'. It's been 'a few days', hence; I'm going riding."
"You should have asked me," the man growled.
The guard looked very worried. "I'm sorry, I got the impression that-"
"Yes, I understand. I'm taking your horse. I'll escort the prince personally," Slade decided.
"Dead set on ruining my whole day, aren't you?" Robin snorted and then set off.
Slade swung up on his horse and followed. He didn't catch up to him until they were well out into the countryside.
"Stay back!" the prince snapped as the king rode up beside him. "You can babysit me from a distance!"
"Dax is not happy with how you're riding him. Don't let you anger out on your horse, Robin. You're better than that."
"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" the boy yelled and pushed his heels into the horse's flanks. He used his crop as well, harder than necessary. Slade had read the stallion correctly though and Dax was not having it. He suddenly stopped dead and then bucked. The prince was not ready and flew over the horse's head. Slade just managed to stop his own steed before it ran over the boy.
Robin rolled over a few times and ended up on his stomach. Slade jumped from the saddle as Dax decided to bolt. The man didn't care about the horse right now, however, as he kneeled down next to the prince.
"Robin..?"
"Go. Away."
Slade smirked. Ah, probably only his pride hurt, then. Good. Because he had had enough of the boy's insolence.
"Up," he said and grabbed the neck of the young man's riding jacket, lifting him straight off the ground.
"You-!" the boy was still holding his riding crop and seemed to remember what he had used it for before, because it came swishing towards the man's face.
"I don't think so," Slade said and grabbed his hand. "But I'll borrow this," he added and yanked it out of Robin's grip.
He led the prince with one hand and his horse in the other until he came to a tree big enough to tie the horse to. He then continued over to the next, a slightly bigger one, and pushed the prince against it, face first.
"You know you should have asked me first before leaving the castle," he said.
"You would have just said no!"
"I would have come with you."
"Like you would take the time!"
Slade had expected an answer more along the lines that the prince didn't want him there, but as before, when the boy was in a frenzy like this he was more likely to speak directly from his heart.
"I'm not like your father. I'll always have time for you," he told him sternly, but with a soft undertone.
"Well… I… I don't want you to!" the prince sneered. Slade nodded to himself. There it was.
"Well, that's too bad. I can't let you run around without any retribution, though, I hope you understand that?"
"What… what do you mean?" Robin asked, trying to struggle out of the grip but to no avail.
"You keep acting like a spoiled child, so you should get a spoiled child's punishment. Lower your breeches."
"What?! No!"
"Now, Robin, or I'm just going to add to the number of strikes. If you keep resisting you won't be able to ride for a while anyway. If you comply it will soon be over. Just five swipes."
"Let me go, you filthy-!"
"Ten then."
"No!"
"Too late. Lower your breeches now or it's going to be fifteen." The man gave the prince a few seconds to think it over and then shrugged. "Well, I guess it will be fift-"
"No! Wait! I'll…" the boy grudgingly unbuttoned the front of his pants and even though Slade couldn't see his face, he noticed that the boy's ears had turned bright red.
"Lower them. Lower," Slade instructed and then saw that pert and rather perfect ass again for the first time in almost a week. It was a nice sight. He decided not to mar it too much. "Good. Ten strikes then."
"Not- not too hard?" Robin asked, sounding rather pitiful.
"What good would a punishment be if I were too easy on you?" Slade asked. "Have you never been spanked before?"
"N-No."
"Very well. I'll use my palm for the first five strikes and the riding crop for the last five then."
"B-But-!"
Slade, however, wasn't going to discuss things any further. He pushed the crop into his boot for easy access before grabbing the boy's neck, having him bend over and brace himself against the trunk of the tree. The man then let his hand fall. He didn't put too much power behind the strikes, but judging by the way the prince yelped it still hurt a lot.
"No! No that's too hard! You can't-"
-SLAP!-
"No! Stop! I won't-"
-SLAP!-
"No-!"
-SLAP!-
"PLEASE!" The boy started sobbing, but Slade carried on, and after the next strike he switched to the crop. This had the boy really yowling.
"There," he said after the last strike was dealt. "You may pull up your breeches." The prince did so, quickly. He was sobbing but tried to hide it. Slade noticed all the same, of course. "Robin," he said and turned the boy around to face him, the red-rimmed tear-filled eyes glared at him accusingly. "I've only spanked my oldest son three times, my youngest only once. All four times had one thing in common; they had knowingly disobeyed their mother or me. I never punished them for accidents or for making mistakes; you learn from those on your own, but there's a certain kind of disobedience that goes beyond just testing boundaries and you crossed that line today, do you understand that?" Robin looked away and the man smiled. "Good. I see that you do. We're going back now. I'll send some people out to search for Dax in case he hasn't returned already. You'll have to ride with me."
"OW! Ow-ow… it hurts!" Robin groaned as the saddle came up to meet his sore behind with every step the horse took. Though it wasn't only the saddle. Deathstroke was sitting behind him and was much too close for comfort.
"It's not too far, I'm sure you can manage," the man said, his voice sounding smug in the prince's ear.
Robin, who didn't have the stirrups so he could stand up and spare his tender skin, tried to relive his discomfort by placing his hands on the man's thighs instead and held himself up slightly. One of the kings' arms was wrapped around his middle, making sure he couldn't fall off. The contact between them, the way they moved together, the way he could hear and feel the man's breath in his ear… it all reminded him of what they used to do. The mix of memories and feelings were confusing, to say the least, but the prince just gritted his teeth together and focused on the fact that it would be over soon.
The punishment had been painful and embarrassing but a tiny, tiny part of him had to admit that he had deserved it. He had known the king wouldn't approve and still he had not only done it anyway, he had also rubbed it in his face by telling the General about it. Well… the king hadn't come to see him since the funeral lunch ended, so why would he care now? He had more important things to do, surely? That was what Robin had been told growing up, anyway; a king never had time for things like family… like him. Deathstroke explaining to him that he was not his father and then punishing him like one didn't make things less bewildering, however.
There was a big fuss when they rode into the courtyard as Dax had just returned and a rescue party was about to be deployed. Robin's face was still red after dismounting and it didn't get better when he heard people snickering. He glared in the direction of the sound to see two stable hands walking away. They might not be laughing at him, but it reignited his anger.
"I'll take you back to your rooms, Your Highness," Slade said next to him.
Robin drew a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his voice amiable.
"Actually, Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind… may I take one of the guards with me? I wish to visit the crypts."
"Very well, you may," the man answered approvingly. "I would like to have dinner with you tonight, though."
"Of course. Just send word to Alfred when and where," Robin nodded. "You, guard! Come with me!"
"Yes, Your Highness!" the man saluted.
"What's your name, soldier?" Robin asked as they headed towards the crypt.
"Birch, Sir."
"Wintergreen, Oak, Birch… do all of you Blüdhaven-people have plant-names?" he smirked.
"Plants and types of rock are quite common, Sir," the guard replied calmly like he hadn't noticed the jibe.
Robin felt a bit bad for letting his annoyance out on a fairly innocent man and remind quiet for the rest of the walk.
He stayed an appropriate amount of time outside the Wayne family crypt where his father had been entombed, fingering the key he always put in his pocket in the mornings. He then headed back to the guard who had stayed at an respectful distance from him, after making sure no one else was in there with them.
"Let's go back to my rooms, Birch. I have to prepare for dinner with the King."
"Yes, Sir, but… aren't we going the wrong way?"
"You are new to the castle. This way isn't longer and it's usually fewer people here. But it's a bit dark."
"Here, we'll take this lamp," the guard said unhooking one of the oil lanterns that had been hanging on the wall.
"I'll take it, you better have your hands free if something should happen," Robin said, leading the way, smirking slightly. When they were about to pass the door to the late king's work room, which was unmarked and looked purposefully uninteresting, the prince gasped and stopped dead.
"Did you see that?"
"What, My Lord?" the guard asked, drawing his sword.
"A shadow… someone ran around the corner over there, I'm sure of it!" Robin said, sounding afraid.
"Stay here, I'll check it out," Birch said and carefully made his way down the hall.
Birch was an experienced solider, young but not stupid. However, he didn't expect the young man he was protecting to try to get rid of him. Still, when he heard the door slam behind him he knew at once that that was what had happened.
"Your Highness? Your Highness open the door!" he called out, rattling the handle. The door was much firmer than it had initially seemed, though, and the lock looked strange. He tried to break it down but to no avail. After hesitating for a second he swore and started running. The king would have to deal with this, even if it meant his own hide. Luckily he ran into two comrades on patrol just as he entered the next corridor. He filled them in quickly and told them to make sure the prince wouldn't run off again, then he continued on to the king.
Slade had just finished a short audience when Wintergreen came up to him.
"The letter arrived, Sir," he said.
"What letter?" Slade asked.
"The letter about the letter, I assume," the General answered. "From Grant?"
Slade had looked at the man like he had gone crazy for a moment but then the coin dropped and he took the folded and sealed papers. "The Prince's parents, yes. I'll read this lat-" Slade tensed as someone entered the throne room running. Several swords were pointing at the man instantly. He didn't seem to notice, however, and when Slade recognized him as the guard who had escorted Robin, he stood up.
"The Prince?"
"Your Majesty… you better come with me!"
Slade did and the guard explained on the way.
"Do you know where that door leads?" the king asked.
"No, but it had a really strange lock."
"Damn it!" Slade barked and tore an ancient battle ax off the wall as he passed it. He knew where it led now and he had a pretty good feeling that he knew what the prince was trying to do.
Robin slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside. He heard the guard trying to open it and then curse before running away. The prince looked around frantically. He had hoped the guard would stay outside, at least for a little longer, but now it seemed like he was even shorter on time than he had first thought.
He had never been in here before and it was bigger than he expected. There wasn't just one room, by the looks of it, but the one he was in opened up to at least one more, hidden by darkness. Robin put the lamp down on a table, then used it to quickly light some of the other ones he could find, and there were a lot of them.
He then glanced around, trying to decide what to do. The place was a mess, which was surprising. His father had always seemed very neat to him, but maybe the clutter was a sign that this had been his true passion.
Robin knew he didn't have a lot of time and he would never be able to destroy any of the wooden or metal things scattered around the room. What he could destroy, though, was the notes and drawings. He gathered up everything he could find, even crumpled parchments on the floor, and then looked around wildly. There wasn't a fireplace in here! After searching for a while, losing valuable time, he spotted a small iron stove built into the wall in the next room. Instead of trying to get all the papers into the stove, however, he put them in a large cauldron which was standing on top of it, jamming them all in there. He then used a single page, lit it on a lamp and dropped it in.
At first the other papers just caught fire, but then smoke began billowing out of the cauldron and into the room. The chimney didn't seem big enough to draw it all out, or maybe it was closed off. Robin didn't really know how these things worked, they were the servant's responsibility.
He did realize that this was too much smoke for just some papers to make, however, and the color of the flames were a strange bluish green. Robin coughed and moved away as more and more smoke started to fill the room. Not good. Not good at all. The cauldron was practically roaring and spitting now, sounding like it could blow apart at any second, but he could barely see it anymore. He had to get out. Putting an arm over his mouth and nose he turned and ran. Suddenly he almost hit a wall. There shouldn't be a wall there! Robin spun around, tears streaming down his face from the stinging smoke. Did he take a wrong turn? Wasn't this the inner room? Was there another one? Where was the door!?
"There's smoke!" were the words greeting Slade as he finally arrived at the scene. The guards were trying to break the door down now, but hadn't gotten far.
"Get water!" the king ordered as he lifted the axe and swung it into the side of the lock again and again, until the handle broke, then he threw his weight against it instead. After the fifth of sixth time it finally gave way and the man was met with a wall of smoke.
"Robin!"
He heard coughing not far away, but it sounded weak. As the smoke finally had somewhere else to go than up the thin chimney, it made it easier to see and it didn't take long to find the boy on the floor, half curled in on himself. Slade swept him up and ran out of there, leaving his men to deal with the fire, which, thankfully, didn't seem to be spreading.
"Open all the windows, he has breathed in smoke! And get the physician!"
Robin heard the order being called out through a haze. He wasn't sure where he was or what was happening, but he felt himself being put down onto a bed and then nice, cold air seemed to fill the room, making it easier to breathe, though his throat was sore.
Someone was tearing at his stock tie and it wasn't Alfred's gentle touch. It came away, though, and then his shirt was opened, almost ripped. Robin's eyes opened slightly, what was all the fuss about? The man looking down at him seemed worried and at first Robin couldn't quite place him. Then he remembered clothing being discarded and what that usually led to and smiled lazily, lifting a hand to the man's face.
"Slade…" he mumbled as the man's name suddenly occurred to him. He pulled him closer and closer until their lips met.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Smoke inhalation: symptoms range from coughing and vomiting to nausea, sleepiness and confusion. (Wikipedia). Just if someone needed an explanation for Robin's weird behavior at the end there… ;)