I don't own Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises, or any of the characters or plots found within the movies. Eleanor Black, her family and backstory, and all the plot points that are not from the movie are mine. The fic is rated for language and violence. It is a rewrite and reorganization of my two previous Nolan-verse fics "Superhero's Confidante" and "Chances Are." It will go through all three movies in the trilogy and feature time from before and after as well.

In the Shadow of the Bat
—Ghosts of Wayne Manor

Eight years since the death of Harvey Dent.
Eight years since the last confirmed sighting of Batman.

As it had been for the past eight years, the garden was decorated with golden light and filled to the brim with Gotham's political and financial elite, eating, drinking, remembering the man who had done Gotham so great a service so long ago. Smells from the various platters of food being carried through the crowd filled the air, along with a constant buzz of chatter, and a large portrait of Harvey Dent sat on the steps leadings up to the manor, his smiling visage overseeing the proceedings; it was a different portrait from the year before.

The night would have been unbearably warm had it not been for the breeze coming off the river. Even so, it was warm enough to make standing amongst the guests at the Harvey Dent Day celebration uncomfortable, and I hadn't the started the evening in the best of moods. I hadn't started many days in a good mood lately. Lack of sleep will do that to a person.

I lasted fifteen minutes amongst the crowd, after the mayor and Commissioner Gordon had given their speeches, smiling and engaging in small talk, before I disengaged from the pressing heat and found a place along the periphery to sit and sip at the glass of red wine in my hand.

It took my father less than thirty seconds to find me—he'd always had a knack for doing so when I was in a bad mood. Over the past eight years, there had even been a few instances where he'd called me, just to make sure I was okay, sometimes in the middle of the night when he somehow known I'd been awake. He called it a father's intuition, and I didn't doubt it, but I thought it made of had more to do with him being the doctor who had saved me as a baby, before he and Naomi had adopted me. Whatever the reason, I had always been glad of it.

"You are too young to let your feelings for him to hold you back," he said after a moment of silence.

I looked sideways at my dad and frowned, though I didn't refute his assumption I had feelings for Bruce. While I'd never told either of my parents outright that Bruce and I had a relationship, I'd suspected they'd known for some time. "I can't leave," I finally replied. "I don't want to leave."

"I know." He took a sip from the drink in his hand. "But I felt I should remind you." He met my gaze, his face soft and full of the concern he'd been keeping to himself. He sighed and squeezed my knee with his free hand. "Your mother and I worry about you. You've been cooped up here fielding the interest of the press and protecting Bruce for the past three years—Sarah's barely seen you and we certainly don't see you as much as we used to. Are you taking care of yourself?"

An unexpected bout of anger surged inside. I shoved it down, shook my head. "I run, I still go to my martial arts class, I practice archery, I read, I help Lucius when he needs it—Dad, I am where I need to be, where I want to be." I drained the remainder of my beverage and left the glass on the table to my left as I rose to my feet. "And though I recognize your need and right to worry about me, I really wish you, Mom, and Sarah would let me live my life the way I'm choosing to."

My father rose to his feet and met my steady gaze. For a moment, I watched various emotions play over my father's face, guessed at the words he was about to say.

"As long as you're happy," he said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "You mother and I are headed to Europe soon, and the offer still stands if you want a vacation."

"I am, and I know."

I gave him a watery smile before I turned and headed for the main house, weaving through the crowd and giving only brief responses to efforts to get my attention. Beyond the tents and the crowds, the air was more temperate and I inhaled a deep breath as I moved for the kitchen, following the flock of wait staff. I slipped inside the busy room and found Alfred, standing near the sink, his sharp eyes watching the black and white clad men and women flutter around, grabbing trays and hurrying back out to the celebration.

"Is his food ready to go up yet?" I asked Alfred, taking up a position leaning on the counter beside him.

"Not quite. I will have Mrs. Bolton bring it up when it is." He watched me as I hovered near the doorway, turned towards the main staircase. "Ms. Black, is something the matter?"

"I'm not sure I want to see him right now, Alfred. We haven't said more than three words to each other in days, and when I tried to talk to him before the party, I ended up yelling at him. He didn't even do anything to make me upset this time." I ran my hands backwards over my hair, which I'd pulled back instead of doing anything fancy with it. I inhaled and exhaled sharply, pressed my lips into a thin line. "I'll be upstairs somewhere if you need me."

I took in Alfred's nod before I moved into the hall and climbing the steps. I wanted badly to kick off my heels, but there were guests mingling in the house, admiring the art and furniture and everything that Bruce and Alfred had filled the house with. One man—an older gentleman who seemed to have consumed liberal amount of wine—was sleeping in one of the chairs in the library. I moved slowly up the stairs, trying to avoid eye contact and the conversation that would follow, but I was stopped by the appearance of one woman in particular, someone I had only seen in photographs and dealt with through a liaison; a woman who had been trying to get a hold of Bruce ever since she'd arrived in Gotham a short while ago. She had mostly dealt with Alfred.

"Ms. Tate," I said by way of greeting.

She gave me a small nod and a smile. "Ms. Black I presume-how lovely to finally meet with you face to face."

I forced a smile onto my face, did my best to make it look genuine. "How are you enjoying the Harvey Dent Day Celebration?"

"It is quite a sombre occasion, though Mr. Wayne has certainly spared no expense in making sure Gotham's hero is remembered well. It pains me that I was never able to meet the man himself."

"Mr. Dent was an interesting man. Determined and ruthless when it came to his job, but he was also oddly reserved. I wish I could have spent some more time with him before he died." It wasn't a lie, but thinking of Harvey bought thoughts of how he had been towards the end, and that meant thinking of the Joker and, though the madmen had been locked away and quiet for eight years, he still terrified me.

"I don't suppose," Ms. Tate said, drawing me out of my reverie, "that would be able to make Mr. Wayne see me? I have important things I wish to discuss with him."

I took a step to one side, indicating my plans to keep moving towards my destination. "I haven't been able to make Mr. Wayne do anything for years, Ms. Tate, and I doubt tonight will be any different. If he'll see me, I'll inquire on your behalf."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched me move, the small gesture changing something fundamental in her face, something I couldn't place, but then, I didn't spend a lot of time trying.

"Thank you, Ms. Black."

I gave a nod of acknowledgement and then pressed on, the clicking of my heels loud in my ears. At the door to the East Wing, the area where Bruce spent most of his time, I knocked and called out for Mr. Wayne, enough times to make a show for those close enough to hear, before I scoffed and marched down the hall to the upstairs study. After making sure no one had wandered into the room, I knocked on the other door and waited.

"I asked you not to come up while the guests were still here," Bruce said when he opened the door.

I looked up at him, indignant, and walked passed him into the room. I heard him shut the door behind me and knew he followed me back to the area where he'd been reading. I leaned on the back of one of the wingback chairs as Bruce sat in the other one, his cane propped on the table beside him. He scratched at the goatee he'd grown as we stared each other down. It had become our routine after yelling or fighting.

I broke first this time, walked around the chair and sunk into it, removing my feet from the uncomfortable shoes and curling them up underneath me in a position that had been more comfortable when I was younger. "Miranda Tate is here, did you know that?"

"I didn't know for sure, but I assumed she'd show up."

"She wants to talk to you." Bruce shook his head and I waved away whatever protest was on his lips. "I didn't tell or promise her anything. She's still being barred at the gates as it were, but would it really be a terrible thing if you did talk to her?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Then you should talk to her. She's already assured both me and Alfred she's not looking for her money back, or for any sort of revenge. She's not mad about the project. I believe she wants to discuss further opportunities."

"I don't want to discuss further opportunities with her or with anyone."

"So are you just going to stay in this wing of the manor forever?" I snapped, my conversation with my father and all previous conversations from the same vein with my mother and Sarah coming back. "Are you just going to forget about the outside world, about the city you wanted to save?" In a fluid motion, I got to my feet and padded away, heading towards the main entrance to the wing of the manor, my hands on my hips. I could hear Bruce following, his gait more laboured than I could ever remember it sounded. "They are down there remembering a lie and you let them do it. You helped set up the lie of Harvey Dent and then you took the blame and you vanished."

"This is still hard on you."

"Yeah, it is." I turned around to face him and found Bruce standing close than I'd expected. "Isn't it hard for you to stay up here, to watch from the roof, knowing what they believe is a lie?"

Bruce stepped closer. "Sometimes—all the time." He raised the hand not wrapped around the cane and touched my cheek. I leaned into the contact, a small sigh escaping my lips, and Bruce moved his hand down to where my neck joined my shoulder. "We've been over this a thousand times, Ellie, why bring this up now? Why bring it up again?"

"Because it feels like something is changing, Bruce, although I'm probably just projecting that."

His fingers slid behind my neck and with just a tiny change in pressure, he drew me across the final distance between us. "You are the most stubborn person I have ever met, Ellie, and you refuse to let things go."

I involuntarily gave a bitter laugh. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Both, depending on the situation." He put his forehead against mine then tilted his head so he could kiss me, warm and slow, a familiar and welcome gesture. "You spoke to one of your parents tonight," he stated when we parted.

"Dad. How did you know?"

"You only get this worked up after they speak to you."

The sudden sound of the doorknob turning sent me back another step from Bruce, to a distance seemingly professional. When whoever it was hesitated—probably juggling the tray laden with Bruce's dinner—I gave Bruce another quick kiss and told him I was headed to bed before scurrying back out the way I'd come, snagging my abandoned shoes on the way.

A faint noise woke me.

I sat upright in the bed, blinking furiously to clear the sleep from my eyes and find the source of the noise. It took longer than it should have for my eyes to pick out Alfred standing in the doorway, illuminated by the dim light of the hallway. Panic clutched my heart with sudden ferocity.

"Alfred? What is it? What's wrong? Is Bruce okay? Did something happen?"

"No, Ms. Black. I am sorry to alarm you. I was looking for Master Bruce."

I rubbed my eyes as I got to my feet, adjusting my t-shirt as it fell around my thighs. "He's not in his chair?"

"No, and he is not in his makeshift archery range, either. I found the door open and thought he had made it here to sleep tonight."

I touched Bruce's side of the bed and found it cold. If he had been there, it hadn't been recently; I moved enough in my sleep some nights to toss the covers across the whole bed. "He didn't sleep here." A sudden idea struck me and I moved passed Alfred, leaving the butler in my wake as I padded down the hall.

About halfway there, Alfred figured out where I was headed. "He may have gone down there after the incident with the pearls."

"What incident?"

"After you retired for the evening, the maid who brought him supper apparently went exploring and stole Mrs. Wayne's pearls from the safe."

"The uncrackable safe?"

"The very same."

I looked at Alfred over my shoulder as I came to a stop in front of the main entrance to the cave, casting my eyes to the piano keys and finding the thin layer of dust disturbed. I hadn't been down there recently and Alfred cleaned in here once a week. Something inside me expanded and I felt joy. Surely he was just tracking the pearls, maybe trying to figure out who the woman who stole them was, but this was the first time he'd set foot down there in recent memory.

"It seems we've found him," I said. I almost pressed the keys on the piano to open the door again, but stopped. "I… Perhaps we should leave him to this? Whatever this is?"

"I will go down in the morning if he is still there, Ms. Black. You, on the other hand, need to return to bed. It has been too long since you slept the entire night through and I am sorry to have woken you."

I smiled. "I'm sure I would have awoken shortly anyway."

This chapter took a while to write because, honestly, I was a little hesitant to finish and publish it after the backlash from the last chapter.

I made some decisions about my character and her place in the universe, and I made a decision to only tweak the canon a small amount and several people didn't like or agree with my decisions. I know most of you still love the story though and your feedback, even if it's just to tell me you can't wait for an update, makes it worthwhile. It makes me incredibly happy that there are people who enjoy this story. I would give you all hugs if I could. Anyways, enjoy the update, even though it's just a lead-in to the action starting next time (I know some of you are anxious to get back to it), and I'm off to Middle Earth and then some more work in space. Come along if you wish.

Also, as a side note, it's really difficult to write Batman fanfiction while watching Star Trek… and no, I won't stop.