Alfred: Chapter 11

"Master Bruce…Lady Kyle has been arrested." It killed Alfred to give Bruce this news, but he had to tell him. He knew Bruce had a certain fondness for Selina Kyle, although he did not know how much farther than that it truly went. Bruce's eyebrows rose, a quick flash of fear spread across his face. It reminded Alfred of that same fearful face he had last seen when Bruce was a boy, that night in the alley beside his parents' bodies. It felt like a lifetime ago to Alfred.

Bruce rose from his chair in Thomas Wayne's study, and walked to the window to gaze out as the sun turned the sky pink and orange before dipping behind the horizon. "On what charges?"

Alfred paused before replying, Bruce would really not like this part. "She killed three men. Smugglers that were in Gotham for a week or two. They killed one of her girls, the littlest one, Holly I believe her name was."

Bruce remained where he was, his face and eyes frozen where they were looking out the window. "What is to become of her?"

Alfred's heart almost fell to his stomach as his words slowly formed the words, "She is to hang, tomorrow evening at sundown. Lord Tywin has seen it fit to begin rounding up any girls found whoring and send them to the stocks. Some are fortunate enough to have guards protecting them, others…are left defenseless. It appears Lord Tywin has a certain disdain for whores that has been kept in check, until now that is…Ser Gordon has been trying to argue these harsh restrictions, but with Lord Tywin having more gold and men to work with it is proving difficult. Lord Martell continues to do nothing from his throne of flowers atop Highgarden. It seems the rest of the Reach will not heed our cries for help. They need you, ser."

Bruce turned to Alfred. "They need me? What? So I can throw more gold at them and hope it works? Tywin is a monster that has come to our own doorstep! Gold will not help them, nor will more men. If Gordon tried to fight it now, Tywin would simply send for more troops to see that his side won out. I cannot go out at night as Batman for very long or very often for risk of being caught. I just feel so…helpless. I don't know how to help my city or my people Alfred. No, there is nothing Bruce Wayne can do to help these people."

Alfred cleared his throat, wondering if he would come to regret what he was about to say, "I know, ser. I did not mean they had need of Bruce Wayne. I meant the city needs Batman."

Bruce's face lost its apathetic mask, his brow creased in confusion as he looked into his loyal servant's eyes. "But you've always…fought me being Batman. You wanted me to move on with my life, let this go, try to find happiness. I'm sure you wanted me to find a lady wife too, have children of my own. Why now?"

Alfred hated to admit it, but Bruce was right. "I know I have, and I still do. I never wanted you to come back to Gotham, I knew you would not find happiness here. All that waited for you here was a cold, lonely life with you living in this dusty castle. This place that will remind you of your parents' shadows day and night. Most days when you were away, I wish you wouldn't come back. That you had gotten married, had children, found happiness as far away from this place as possible. But now that you're here, and I've seen what kind of man you are, I know that is not possible.

You haven't moved on because you couldn't. The hurt boy that left this city is still trapped inside you, and Batman is his way out. You want to save your city, and this Batman persona is the only way you know how to do it. It is not the life I wanted for you, nor the one your parents wished you'd have either, but it is the life you have chosen. So I stand by you Master Bruce as I always will, and that includes at the Batman's side as well. The people need their hero, ser. Lord Tywin is going to gut this city from the inside out as if it were nothing but a deer. He does not care for this city or its people, he has shown that now. You don't save a city by killing its killers, that may be the way the rest of the bloody world handles themselves, but it is not the way your father did. They need Batman ser, and they need him now more than ever."

Bruce remained silent for a long time after that. It felt like an eternity to Alfred. Sweat started dotting his forehead as he waited anxiously for his master's response. Bruce was strong, and durable, but Alfred did not know if he had overstepped his bounds and angered him. Bruce stared at the floor, his eyes darting around the carpet. Without warning or word he walked over to Alfred, and before the Dornishman could protest Bruce wrapped his arms around him. Alfred moved his arms up over his master's shoulders, hugging him close.

"Thank you old friend, now I know what I must do," Bruce said quietly, almost at a whisper. He pulled back and looked into Alfred's eyes. "Selina may be a killer, but she still does not deserve to die. None of them that have died at Tywin's noose did. My city is in chaos, and Batman will rise to stop it."

Alfred decided to take advantage of the moment, "You know Master Bruce, you could invite Selina back to the castle after for supper."

Bruce smirked. "You would go so far as to try and match me with a whore, thief, and now convicted killer?"

Alfred returned the smirk, "Ser, if we are to speak plain. At this point I would match you with a goat if it would get you back in the world."

Bruce laughed sincerely for the first time in a long while, "I have seen the world Alfred, it was not overly compelling. Nor were the many goats that I saw in my travels."

Selina: Chapter 12

She had been in here for five days, at least Selina thought that was the count. She was chained to the wall by a rather short, linked chain forged from iron. She could sit more comfortably than other prisoners she had seen, but the chain still made trying to sleep awkward as her arms would always have to be up at an angle to accommodate her bindings. She had a pair of iron shackles around her ankles too. The guards clearly were not taking their chances with her. Most days she would do nothing but sit there and stare into the stone wall across from her. She would look at every detail of every stone, and could sketch the wall by memory at this point. The stones were crudely formed, some even had sharp edges at some corners. Luckily no sharp edges laid at her back or that would make sitting even more uncomfortable.

A tin pot sat a few feet from her for when she had need of it, it smelled horribly at this point. Selina would rather they just take her to her noose now just so she could get away from the foul odor. That was one reason she wanted her death to come sooner rather than later, the other was Holly.

Everyday her mind would think of Holly, remembering when she first found the dirty, blonde haired girl on the street trying to pickpocket a passing merchant. "No sweets, if you want to do it right, you wait until their right on top of you and not a moment sooner. If you follow them you give yourself away, if you wait and stare as they come they'll get flighty. You wait until right as they pass and-" Selina stopped her lesson to lift a small sack of coins from an unsuspecting guardsman that passed by. She tossed the bag to Holly, and the young girl looked up at her like a kitten that had just been fed.

They had been like sisters ever since, Selina couldn't teach her how to read, write, or any useful trade. She could only teach the young girl how to survive. And what a failure am I…

Selina could not think of Holly for more than a minute without remembering holding the girl's fleetingly warm body in her arms. Blood had dried in the frayed ends of Holly's curly blond hair. Her chest and blouse were bathed in blood. It was bright yellow, with white flowers sewn into it, Selina had just bought it for Holly the week before because it went with her hair so well.

She heard footsteps echoing down the hall, the sound of Lannister boots made a particularly striking sound compared to those of the city guard. There were two of them, one had much heavier footsteps than the other. She heard the sound of metal scraping against metal as the key was jammed into the lock to her cell door. The door opened, and two men wearing the crimson and gold trimmed armor of Lannister came in to unlock her from her shackles. If it were four days ago, Selina would have had the strength and will to fight them tooth and nail to escape, but now she let them each grab an arm and drag her down the hall while her feet dragged against the stone floor. She knew the stone was cutting and scraping her skin, but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

She gazed indifferently at the cells as she passed. Some had thick wooden doors like her own did, others were merely iron bars. She could see how defeated the men in the barred cells looked, it made her wish none of the cells were barred. She saw a few men with bloodied, bandaged stumps where their hands once were. She saw a few whores she thought she recognized crying in corners of cells. The last cell held a bald, elderly man with all of the hope gone from his eyes. He seemed more eager to die than even Selina was. I'm not eager to die, just tired of living, Selina corrected herself.

She was dragged down some stairs, then around a corner and out through two large metal doors. The sunlight was blinding to her, even squinting her eyes was not enough to stop the pain the light gave her. Luckily it was nearing sundown, as most of the buildings and steads around her were casting long shadows down onto the street. She was being dragged to the central city square she knew, that was where the other murderers were hung. Ah yes, I keep forgetting I'm a killer now.

She glanced up at the guard to her left, a bright orange beard jetting out from beneath his lion-like helm. He was the fatter of the two guards, and must have been the cause of the heavier footprints she heard from her cell. He had given no name, so Selina decided to call him Sun Beard.

Selina turned to look up at the guard on her right as they passed a baker's stead, not much longer now. This guard was slightly shorter than Sun Beard, but was much less fat. He had broad shoulders, and a finely trimmed, black beard surrounding his mouth but not the entire jaw. Selina decided to call him Black Butcher, since all they were doing were butchering Gotham city folk under the Lion Lord's orders. Ha, Black Butcher and Sun Beard, the last two men to touch me in this life.

They had reached the main city square, and Selina saw the rotting corpses dangling on their ropes from the crudely built wooden beam stretching across the triple wide street. There were at least a dozen bodies, all with feet dangling less than a foot from the stone street beneath them. A crow was picking at the most rotten corpse's eye, the rest seemed rather fresh.

They led Selina up to fall in line with the other corpses. Black Butcher dragged a crate over and set it down directly beneath the beam so he could tie the rope around it. As he was doing that, Sun Beard pulled Selina to her feet and wrapped a hand around her neck.

"Well ain't you a pretty lil' thing. Too bad you got to die, elsewise I'd pay some damn good coin to fuck you for a night or three hehe." His eyes were lustful and were stripping Selina nude despite her being covered in dirt and smelling of shit.

Black Butcher spoke up as he started tying the knot, "Oh let her alone Garrick, she's to die so no use in eyeing up a corpse."

Sun Beard snorted, "Is if it's a damn fine looking corpse."

I'm going to be killed by the lowest of the lowest, oh Selina how future generations will sing songs of your grand life.

"Damn it all, the rope is too short," Black Butcher growled as Selina looked up to see the rope was wanting of a couple feet to reach where she would stand.

"We'll just lift her up is all," Sun Beard suggested.

"You can go right ahead, if you think she won't try clawing your eyes out in the process," Black Butcher argued.

Sun Beard cocked an eye brow as he pondered for a moment. "Alright, I don't suppose Lord Tywin will mind if we slit the throat of one stupid whore instead of tie a rope around her neck."

Sun Beard drew his sword but Black Butcher reached an arm out. "No, I'll do it."

He roughly grabbed Selina by the shoulder and forced her to her knees as he clutched her neck keeping her body upright. Selina looked around at the eyes that were now staring down on her. She had drawn quite a crowd, at least a hundred people had gathered to watch the latest trophy be placed on the mantle of corpses. No one was cheering though, all of the faces Selina gazed upon looked quite solemn. They're as hopeless as me, Tywin didn't save the city, he just took its soul.

Selina heard the soft snickt of Black Butcher drawing his dagger from its scabbard. He grabbed Selina by the hair and pulled her head back, exposing her pale white neck. He leaned in to her ear and whispered in a familiar gravelly voice, "When I say run, run."

Selina's eyes flew wide open in disbelief, she tried to turn to see his face. To see if she could recognize it under the beard and helmet, but his grip on her hair was too strong. Time seemed to slow around her, as she waited for those words to come, the words that had given her hope again when she had felt lost to the darkness.

"Run!" Black Butcher shouted as he let her hair go free and spun around to face Sun Beard. Selina was not sure how he dispatched the orange-bearded soldier but she did not care. She tried to find all the strength she could to run as fast as her feet would carry her, but her legs felt like water beneath her. Soon enough, the man was running next to her, ripping off his arm braces and shoulder guards. He wrapped an arm around her and turned her quickly down a corner as they saw three Lannister men round the corner in front of them. They took another turn down an even narrower alley and then out across another street.

Selina tried to turn her head to look upon him, but her head bobbed too much from exhaustion and he was moving too fast. His arm felt strong around her though, it made her feel…safe. Two Lannister men rounded the corner into the alley in front of them, so Black Butcher took a swift left down another side alley. As they heard more and more metal feet fall in behind them, Selina began to slowly lose hope. How could he fight all of these men off? He's only one man…

As they rounded the next corner Selina found her answer. A stallion as black as night stood tied to a post before them, a strong looking beast to be sure. When they reached it, he helped Selina up into the saddle before mounting behind her and wrapping his arms around her and grasping the reigns. With a flick of his wrists they were off down another side alley, the sound of metal boots on stone growing more distant as the sound of hoof-beats on stone grew more loud. Selina tried to find the strength to hang on, but she felt her body aching from exhaustion. They fled through street after street before finally reaching the outskirts of the city near the woods that ran in the densely hilled region of the bayside cliffs.

Selina felt a small prick to her skin, as she looked to her arm and found a small drip of blood slowly making its way down her arm. She turned to look back at him, but suddenly felt very light headed and dizzy. The last thing she remembered were the words, "I'm sorry."

When Selina awoke she was lying on an oddly comfortable straw mattress. She was wrapped in a wool blanket, but still had a painstaking headache. As she pulled the blanket from her, she noticed she had been washed and dressed in a new wool tunic and breeches. Selina looked around, and saw that she was in a small wooden room with a dim light seeping in from between the planks. The door had a small wooden counter halfway up with a small iron door above it for slipping in a plate of food to feed whoever was locked within. As Selina took a step from her bed she heard a clank and felt a tug on her ankles. She looked down to see a tightly locked pair of shackles around her ankles. As she stepped onto the floor barefoot, she noticed that the floor was one solid slab of black stone, not multiple stones as most steads had. She heard the sound of running water from somewhere outside of the room, but could not target where.

She tried peering through the gaps in the wooden boards that made up the walls of her new cell, but couldn't see anything because of how tightly fittedthey were. Wherever she was, it certainly was not somewhere he wanted her to know about. From one cell to another, and here I thought he was chivalrous. Beats dying I suppose. Selina laid back down in her bed, and fell back into a rather peaceful and serene sleep.

Bruce: Chapter 14

Bruce opened the small metal trap door and slid the plate onto the little wooden counter in Selina's wooden cell. Sometimes she would be awake, other times she would be sleeping or too tired or full of grief to leave the bed. Most times though, she would try talking to Bruce.

"Please, just tell me why I'm in here?" He heard muffled from within the wooden room. Bruce never answered, whether she shouted, cried, jested, seduced, or begged, he couldn't. He needed to know she would be safe until Tywin left, and since nowhere in the city was safe, Bruce had brought her back to the cave. He had Lucius begin working on the small wooden room shortly after Alfred had told him the news of Selina's arrest the night before she was to be hanged. He had him forge a pair of ankle cuffs for her too so she wouldn't try escaping. Bruce did not want her snooping around his cave and finding the passage up to the castle, then his secret identity would be no more. The wooden cell sat in the northern corner of the cave, so the floor would be dry and not have a few inches or feet of water. He fed her three times a day, usually grilled pork or beef with some roasted onions or mushrooms and a glass of wine.

It hurt Bruce not to tell her, but she was too clever for him to trust himself by saying anything. By now she had probably figured out she was underground, to the southwest of the city because she saw them approaching the woods. Bruce had been too worried with them escaping the city alive and free of pursuit to give her the sleep-inducing serum. As they fled through the last few streets Bruce remembered and gave her a poke with the small, serum coated pin. Sleep overtook her within a minute and she slept for the next eight or so hours before waking up in her new temporary chambers.

Soon though, I will let you go soon. It was the night before Lord Tywin's grand feast in celebration of his success in combating Gotham's crime. Many still loved Lord Tywin and thought of him as a true hero for the way he purged crime as if it were an infestation of rats. Others however, had slowly begun to lose faith in him as they grew more fearful of his iron-like grip over the city.

He had asked Alfred and Lucius to avoid the cave for the duration of Selina' stay, if she heard one of their voices it would not be hard to place the voice to the face when she was free. He knew Selina would feel lonely, he just hoped she would understand when he finally felt it was safe enough to let her go. She was a murderer though, someone who Bruce was supposed to bring to justice no matter who she was. He should not be giving her the special treatment he was, but he couldn't bring himself to let her be put to death. When the time came to set her free, Bruce was not sure if he should let her go, or if he would. Despite her being a criminal, he had a certain fondness for her. She wasn't a true lowborn killer, or a raper or smuggler, she only stole from nobles. Bruce knew her targets well, the Drakes, Hadys, Elliots, Cobblepots, all wealthy and surely would not miss what was stolen. No, if I start rationalizing criminals' innocence now I'll never stop. She is a criminal, when Tywin's well and gone I'll turn her over to Gordon.

Bruce shook his head in frustration; he would settle this matter later, now it was time to go to work. He walked over to the large, oak wardrobe in the center of the cave. It had been his father's when he was alive, and had sat across from his parents' bed for as long as Bruce could remember. It was a dark brown wood, even for oak's standards, and was nearly as long as Bruce was tall. It had a portrait of a nighttime countryside carved into each door. There was a moon in each outer corner surrounded by stars, rolling hills, trees and fields of crops blowing in the wind, and bats flying across the sky. The door handles were made of bronze and formed a bat with outstretched wings that was split down the middle. Bruce put a hand on each wing, and pulled the bat apart as the doors opened. Within was his armor; the helm sitting upon a faceless mannequin head, the greaves and chest in the center, his bracer styled gauntlets attached to each side wall, the cape hanging in the back-right corner, the belt hanging at its opposite. He donned them all, mounted his black stallion, and rode off through the mist beneath the waterfall.

The night was cool, and especially dark from the clouded skies above. Good. He rode to the edge of the forest near the Lannister camp, tied his horse within the cover of the brush, and slowly crept to where the tents lay. It was late into the night, an hour or two after midnight. Most of the Lannister men were out patrolling the city as they commonly did at night, leaving maybe sixty or so left to sleep, drink, and eat. Lord Tywin had been sleeping in his lord's tent for the past few nights, making him an easy target. He kept himself hidden away within the tall crimson and gold tent towering up from the middle of the sea of brown or pale red soldiers' tents.

Many of the fires had died down to smoldering ashes. A few men still made rounds, but most were asleep leaving the camp seemingly dead. Bruce crept from tent to tent unseen until he arrived at the lavishly sewn tent of the Lion Lord. He heard voices from within, and stalked up to the faded red tent nearest the entrance to Lord Tywin's tent. He watched Ser Borsan and two other guards depart from the tent's folded back, golden entrance. One guard remained to guard over the only way in to Lord Tywin.

Bruce snuck up from the side and clamped a hand over the unfortunate guard's mouth until he ran out of air and slipped into unconsciousness. Bruce silently laid the body down against the tent propped up as if he were merely sleeping. Then he slipped into the entrance to find the Lion Lord sitting at his war table facing the other way. Bruce stood, and drew two throwing knives from his belt.

"If you're going to try and kill a man you should at least have the decency to face him," Lord Tywin calmly said without turning to face the intruder. Bruce lowered his arm from its tensed position and put the bat-shaped knives back into his belt. He walked around the table to face Lord Tywin directly.

Tywin gazed up at Bruce without moving his head, glaring at the oddly dressed man before him. "I'm not here to kill you," Bruce growled in the rasping but well-practiced voice he used as Batman.

Tywin sat back in his chair. "No, of course not. You don't kill, because you are a coward and are not prepared to do what is necessary in a world like this."

Bruce remembered the last time he had heard that when he killed Rha's Al Ghul. These men are so quick to say what is necessary, but not what is important. "Killing is necessary?" Bruce asked the old lord.

"Yes, think of what would happen if the Mad King had not been killed. How many people would have died under his reign? War is fighting and fighting is killing. That is the way it has been since the First Men landed and began killing the Children of the Forest to make way for what we have now. And we will continue to kill so our children's children will have even more. It is how the world turns, and only those too craven to take another's life sit and preach of how the world could be different. They don't know what it feels like, watching another man's life drain from his eyes, hearing his last breaths, feeling his life leave him right before your eyes. Killing is not used to be well loved, but it is to be used to keep order and keep these sheep in line.

Men that rise up trying to change the world are more dangerous than even the worst of killers, for their heads are full of follies and hopes. Men need to stop thinking what could be and see what is. This is the way the world works, and this is the way the world will end. You cannot change the nature of man by dressing yourself in a pointed helm and running about at night like a shadow. You are a danger to this world and its natural order. You try to spit in the face of how Westoros lives and will continue to do so. And I am the sword that always comes down on the head of such up-starters to teach them the reality of the matter," Tywin said as he stood to pour himself a glass of wine.

"If I am not mistaken my lord, I believe our current king bears the title The Usurper, does he not?" Bruce replied. Robert Baratheon had risen up against the Mad King, and won himself a throne for his troubles. He started a rebellion, a rebellion that Tywin Lannister had supported in the end, but now he was trying to label Bruce an outcast for going against the natural order of the world. How men sitting on thrones twist and turn their actions to make their meanings seem more noble.

Tywin turned with his nostrils flaring briefly. "Now you would disrespect our king? That is a crime worthy of death Batman. Perhaps you are no better than those you hunt."

Bruce stood with his eyes locked on the old lord's face as he returned to his seat. "I fought a hunter recently, a trained dog that was sent to kill me. He informed me you knew him, before he went missing."

Tywin Lannister's nostrils flared even wider as his upper face contorted in seething anger. "You do not know the matters in which you are interfering you aberration," he seethed at Bruce with an unforeseen level of uncontrolled wrath.

Bruce pursued the matter, "So it was Deathstroke that you came to Gotham for. You wanted to find out what became of your little pet."

Tywin stood up swiftly, both hands clamped on the arms of his chair. "May the Others take you. You know not of the hell I could bring down upon this city. That man has proven more useful to me than even Gregor Clegane. He has killed dozens of men for me and possibly a thousand more for practice. He is not a tool I will not let go missing until I find him, or his bloodied corpse and know he's of no more use. And if that is the case, then your city will be reduced to ash. You and that damned Carmine Falcone will burn in the eyes of the Stranger for eternity if the Seven are just. He has always tried to eat the scraps from my table and now he's gone and taken one of my best assets from me only for the likes of you."

Bruce had him. "So you are only here to find your blade in the shadows. The man who can do your dirty deeds for you while you remain safe behind your walls feasting and drinking to your heart's content. You sit from atop your damned rock and judge me as worthless and without just cause. While you and your lords sit on your thrones and throw more swords than gold at your people rather than actually doing something to try and help. You are not men of action, you are men of words, and pointless, hollow words at that. You will leave this city tomorrow, or you will regret your foolishness and arrogance for staying."

Lord Tywin sat back in his seat, and took another sip of wine. "You know, when I first came here, I thought you truly were Bruce Wayne. The cane threw me at first, but I thought I could understand how a man would become so enamored by grief that he would dress so foolishly and frolic around playing knight. But Wayne is nothing but an arrogant boy with hordes of gold, while you are merely a delusional, albeit determined, fool that is destined to fail."

Bruce stepped to the entrance of the tent, the old lion did not turn to see him out. Lord Tywin spoke up once more, "It was you that saved that whore a few days ago wasn't it?"

Bruce turned to face the back of his chair, not responding. The Lion Lord grunted, "Heh, it seems your so called honor-bound morals are beginning to crack, ser. I do hope the whore is worth the price in bed for corrupting what you stand for. What measures can you take to ensure that I leave? Highgarden has sent your city no help, abandoning it as if it were not a part of the Reach at all. Your City Watch finds my assistance beneficial. The majority of your people still find me a hero. What can you possibly do to make me leave you fool? Take on all six centuries of men yourself? Only a fool would think he could fight such a war on his own."

Bruce stared at the balding back of Lord Tywin's head before replying, "Either man will bring about the end of war, or war will bring about the end of man. At least I do more than sit my lord. The lords of Highgarden, Ashford, Goldengrove, any of them, the City Watch, the smallfolk, they can all stand by and do nothing. I've laid in wait for long enough. If it comes to taking on your six hundred men myself, I will do it. You may jest and find that a humorous folly, but I've taken on such a feat before and come out the victor. Careful Lord Tywin, you have won wars against men before, but you have never fought the likes of me." With that he left Tywin to his wine, and ducked out into the darkness of the night.

So the Batman has finally confronted Lord Tywin! Next week's update brings the Lord Tywin's honored feast! As always, any reviews are welcome and appreciated and I will reply as soon as I can