Ok, despite my attempts at research my knowledge of ships, sailing, and the like is near zero so please forgive me if anything is too inaccurate.
Also sorry for the gap in updating, this scene just wasn't working the way I wanted and took some reworking.
Thank You for Reading and Please Review :)
Chapter 20: Carefree Days
Wayne Castle Kent England April 10, 1844
—Alfred
Alfred carefully addressed the final invitation.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of
His Grace, Bruce Thomas Wayne, Duke of Gotham,
To Miss Selina Maria Kyle
A pleased smile warmed his old face as he stamped the wax with the Wayne family seal.
At long last, the Wayne name would live on.
Dropping the note into his pocket he carried it to the front door, put on his hat, and went to deliver the messages to those lucky few locals who had garnered an invitation.
This was a day that Alfred had long waited for.
Riverfoot Hall Kent England April 10, 1844
—Diana
Diana drummed her foot against the floorboards as she waited for Barda to finish fastening the buttons on her dress.
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!
Her fidgeting increased until a rough hand pulled her shoulders back and her maid's deep voice growled, "hold still."
Letting out an exaggerated sigh Diana looked longingly out the window at the bright morning light. It had rained nearly continuously for the last six days. This was the first morning the sun had peaked out and she wasn't going to waste it locked indoors.
Come on, let me out!
"Done." Barda grunted and turned towards the vanity, reaching for the brush.
"Nope, don't even think about touching my hair, I am not losing another moment!"
Diana bounded from the room and flew down the hall, raven tresses flowing freely behind her. Spring had sprung and so was she.
Barreling down the stairs she hit the landing, waved a quick "Good Morning" to Aunt Martha in the parlor, and finally burst threw the front door into the exhilarating cool morning air, drinking in gulps of it into her starved lungs.
"Where HAVE you been?!"
Diana turned her head and saw Kara standing with hands on hips, a tangled bundle of posies pocking out of her pinafore pockets and a mischievous glint in her eye.
"They aren't here yet are they?" Diana asked, panicking.
"No, but they will be soon. Come on and help me before Clark finds us and tries to make us start lessons. Ugh grown ups are so boring!"
Kara took off running towards where the far side of the front lawn met a small grove of trees. Laughing Diana followed her.
Once at the edge of the grove they began setting up. Diana had been reading a lot of folk tales lately and had decided that their little group should try reenacting some of the scenes. Kara had thought that summoning fairies was the first interesting thing to come from Diana's dusty old books and had heartily agreed.
Aunt Martha had obliged Diana's suggestion of Barbara joining their small school room and the scholarly red head was due to arrive, as always, punctually at 8. Barbara had declared Diana's theatrical a fine exercise in living archeology and therefore would be bringing all the "authentic" ingredients for a love potion, which she had snuck from the kitchen. As well as an old copper pot to serve as a cauldron. Diana was relieved that Barbara was eager to play the witch, but she hoped the day wouldn't be hampered by any lengthy explanations on the history of uses for mushrooms and tree bark.
Lastly, Lucy was supposed to come too, but her arrival was less dependent on the clock and more so on her mother's moods. Still, Diana hoped she wouldn't be too late. She also hoped that Lucy wouldn't cry when presented with the frog Kara had caught that would be standing in for Merlin. It would be so lovely to get through just ONE gathering without Lucy whimpering, though, Diana did have to give credit that at least the younger Miss Lane was growing quieter in her nervousness if no less consistent.
"This won't be enough flowers." Kara judged.
"Well, that's ok, we could always use some clover or—"
"No, no, no! You can't summon spring with clovers! Honestly, Diana think."
Diana bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the serious little blonde.
"We will just have to find more." With that Kara hoped down from the tree stump she had been surveying from and started marching towards the grove, clearly expecting her cousin to follow.
Shrugging, the older girl followed, keeping her eye trained on the ground for any spring blooms that they might have missed. This was going to be a good day!
Several hours later the troupe had assembled and were preparing to execute their first reenactment, or at least they were trying to.
"Caroline Kent you give that to me this instant!" Demanded Barbara.
"No! It's mine and I won't relinquish it!"
Kara waved a large carving knife in large S shapes, making the air whistle around Barbara's ears. As for the redhead, fire steaming from her nostrils, her face turned nearly as dark as her hair as she held a large copper pot over her head as a makeshift helmet for protection. Meanwhile Lucy nervously strangled a wreath of flowers in her hand and began to hiccup as her anxiety increased and Diana rubbed her temples at the mess unraveling around her.
"A Butter knife, you were only supposed to get A BUTTER KNIFE YOU IMPOSSIBLE CRETIN GIVE IT HERE!"
Barbara began swinging her pot by the handle, trying to beat the weapon out of the vigilante's hand. Kara screamed and ran back across the clearing, Barbara hot on her tail.
Diana took off after them to prevent the inevitable bloodshed. She would've easily overtaken them with her longer legs, that is if she hadn't had to drag Lucy along behind her.
When they did catch up the two duelists were frantically running a race of cat and mouse around the old stump.
"Kara give her the knife!" Diana pleaded.
"NEVER!" Hollered the pint-sized Joan of Arc, raising the knife in the air and letting out such a forceful battle cry that Diana had to cover her ears from the sonic boom. Surely even the faraway Scots could hear that call to freedom.
"TROUBLESOME BRAT!" Barbara hurled her pot at Kara's back.
"Careful!" Squeaked Lucy.
The copper vessel clipped Kara's skirt as it went sailing through the air. The blonde yelped and sped up, but her red-haired assailant's toe collided with a root and gravity did the rest.
The pot went bouncing in one direction, Kara went sprinting in the other, and Barbara smacked the ground with her face. Both legs flying over her head taking her dress and petticoats with them.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"Barbara!" Lucy ran to her side.
Hearing the sweet sound of defeat Kara stopped running and looked back. Lucy was trying to delicately replace Barbara's skirts while the fury fought to free herself from the tangle of cloth.
With a wicked smile Kara flew back across the green and jumped atop the stump. Brandishing her knife, she hoisted it into the air, pointed at her fallen foe, and gave a hearty "HA!"
Throwing off the last layer of cloth Barbara pushed Lucy away and leapt to her feet, crouching like wrestler she brandished her nails, out for blood.
"THAT'S IT, YOU'RE DONE!"
Barbara lurched for the stump
"BACK WITCH!" Kara screamed and crossed the knife in front of herself defensively.
Barbara's attacking form halted, her face a mere breath's width from the sharp edge of the knife.
Time froze as Kara saw the other girl's blue eyes double in size and fill with terror.
Suddenly Kara was smacked by flying red hair as Barbara was flung back, away from near death.
Barbara hit the lawn on her back with a cracking THUD!
Kara's fingers went slack, and the knife fell. Blinking she continued to stare dumbly at the crying girl on the ground.
Wait, that was Lucy crying not Barbara.
Kara became aware of two distinct bodies lying tangled on the ground, the one crawled frantically towards the other and waved her hands over the other motionless figure. That one was Lucy, she was fanning Barbara's face because Barbara, wasn't moving.
Fear gripped Kara as she stood frozen to the stump, unable to blink.
Dear God, I killed her!
Just then a breeze brushed something against her hand.
Kara flicked her eyes down. Raven hair flipped by her hand and Kara followed the strands up till her head rested back against her shoulder's and she stared into the face of a giantess.
Diana stood like a wall, feet planted firmly apart, fingers curled into a fist, her right arm braced, and taunt stretched between Kara and the fallen figure of Barbara.
She loomed over them like an angry god and Kara's knees went weak when she glanced the steely power in those azure eyes that narrowed when they locked with her own.
Diana lowered her arm and Kara snapped back at the sound of Barbara wheezing on the ground.
"She's alive!" Kara shouted as a wave of a relief crashed over her.
"No thanks to you." Barbara coughed.
"Enough, both of you." Diana commanded.
"Diana! You saved her, you're a hero!" Kara gushed.
The older girl blinked in confusion as the little blonde latched on to her arm and gazed up worshipfully at her cousin.
"No, I didn't."
Kara nodded her head assuredly and hung on tighter.
"Of course, you did! You blocked her with your arm and the sheer force of your strength threw her!"
"What are you talking about? Lucy jumped in front of Barbara and tackled her."
A disbelief slapped across Kara's face as she dropped her cousin's arm.
"Lucy? That's impossible, you had your arm out!"
"Ya, to stop you."
"ME?!" Kara squeaked in offense. "From what?!"
"From jumping on Barbara when she was down."
Kara looked suspiciously from her cousin, to Lucy and Barbara sitting on the ground, back to Diana, then back to Lucy.
"I'm not buying it." Kara stated crossing her arms. "You saved Babs from death and that's all there is to it."
"Oh, for goodness sake, I did not, and nobody was going to die."
"Yes, she was! But, Babs, since my cousin has saved you, I will now consider your existence permissible and declare a truce."
"Gee, thanks." Barbara glared at the mite, "And don't call me Babs."
"No can do Babsy, it's a sign of my affection."
"Great." Barbara shook her head, surrendering.
"I think it's sweet." Smiled Lucy, who hoped that perhaps, finally, they could all behave nicely together.
As Kara spoke Diana picked up the Butcher Knife, the cause of this whole kerfuffle, and rolled her eyes before placing two fingers between her teeth and shooting out an ear-piercing whistle.
"Hey! I may be alive but that's no reason to make me deaf." Quipped Barbara.
"Sorry."
Lucy helped Barbara stand. However, when Lucy started trying to clean the dirt off Barbara's pinafore, she brushed her away.
Right on cue Big Barda came marching across the lawn answering her mistress's call. Kara wondered if Barda minded being whistled for like a dog.
Barda halted a couple feet from her young charge and crossed her arms, and though the scowl never left her face she seemed to be waiting patiently for her orders like any trained soldier.
Seeing the height difference between the two made Barbara, Lucy, and Kara feel like ants in their shadows. If Diana seemed giant to them than Barda was a thing of legend.
Barbara shook her head in wonder, having recently clocked the maid's height to be 6 foot 4 inches. That was 2 inches above Lord Clark and good 6 inches over Diana! Barbara had taken everyone's measurements last week as part of an experiment in physics.
Pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face Diana held out the knife to the maid.
"Take this back to the kitchen please."
Without a word the maid took it and strode back to the house.
The three let out a collective sigh. Diana may not have had any trouble ordering that goliath around, but the others wished to continue living and had cultivated a healthy mixture of respectful awe and fear of the mysterious maid.
"Now," started Diana, taking charge of the production. "We will no longer be doing King Arthur and Excalibur. We'll do Persephone summoning spring instead."
"Aww, why?" whined Kara.
"Because you can't be trusted. Now shoo, off the stump." Diana placed her hands on her hips like she'd seen Lois do when she ordered others around.
Lucy clapped her hands excitedly and Barbara went to retrieve her dinted pot while Kara begrudgingly climbed down.
"This will be much better Kara you'll see, now we don't need a Merlin. It's really not lady-like to carry around a toad anyway." Lucy soothed, setting the youngest girl's teeth on edge.
"If I could turn one person into a toad, I know who it'd be." Kara grumbled as she snatched the crushed flower crown from Lucy's hand and smashed down on her own head.
Later, as four fairy figures danced in a circle, with wreaths of flowers in their hair, and no shoes on their feet, a man was steadily making his way up the walk towards the house.
—Alfred
"Always a pleasure Pennyworth."
"Same to you Desmond." Alfred replied with a dignified tilt of the head which was mirrored by the Kents' portly butler as he accepted the invitation.
Glancing at the folded paper Desmond bobbed his head and closed the door.
Breathing in a deep draught of fresh air Alfred turned on his heels, clipped them together and started walking away from house.
"ALFRED!"
The gentleman turned back to see a beautiful nymph running across the lawn.
Laughing quietly to himself Alfred bowed respectfully as the girl skidded to a stop in front of him. He took a moment to take in her very bohemian appearance.
Bare feet peeked out beneath a white muslin dress that had several grass-stains along the skirt. The sleeves had been rolled up past the elbow and her hands had a layer of dirt on them that would make a gardener proud. The violets on her dress were complimented by the wreath of posies that sat askew on her head and was practically buried in the mass of unruly raven curls that swept around her smiling face, flushed cheeks from fresh air and a smearing of dirt across her forehead all made the more lovely by her eyes the sparkled with happiness at seeing him.
"Good afternoon Your Highness, it's a pleasure to see you."
Diana reached into her pocket and produced a letter.
"Would you mind delivering this to Bruce for me?"
"I'd be glad to, does this mean you were finally able to finish the poem?"
Diana nodded excitedly.
"It took a while, but I finally found the right one! I've only included the next stanza though, so he will have to finish it. Oh, we are still going to play chess on Wednesday yes?"
"Of course. I've been tinkering with my lemon cake recipe and I am eager for you and Miss Barda to try it. I want only honest feedback mind you."
Diana raised her hand in oath. "I promise to only tell the truth, but I can make no promises on Barda speaking at all."
"Then I await your visit Princess, and Miss Barda's."
Diana rolled her eyes at the butler's unfailing consideration of her stoic guardian, missing the sympathetic twitch of his smile beneath his trimmed mustache.
Bowing again he began to leave.
"Wait Alfred, wouldn't you like to come inside? I know Aunt Martha would be happy to see you."
"That is very kind, but I am afraid I still have a few messages to deliver."
"Messages? Did Bruce send a letter!"
"Well—" Alfred began, but it was to late, Diana had already run into the house.
He watched her go and shook his head sympathetically, some lessons can only be learned the hard way.
Riverfoot Hall Kent England April 10, 1844
—Clark
Clark continued to shift through the seemingly endless pile of papers, trying to construct some semblance of order among the chaos engulfing his father's desk.
He groaned as he read yet another bill, wondering how best to stretch his mother's allowance to cover the additional charges that had been made for the girl's new spring clothing. Why must children continue to grow?
On the other side of the cozy study his mother pretended to concentrate on replying to her various correspondents, but Clark could feel her worried gaze watching him.
He knew what she was wondering, why was he still here?
Martha Kent was the picture of loving consideration and would rather die than interfere, perhaps she should have interfered more, but a life's worth of habits is near impossible to break. As a result she silently struggled with the least invasive way of voicing her concerns to her son, more likely than not she would give up on being direct, as she could discern no inoffensive way to be confrontational, and instead present a vague question on his well-being, hoping he would present the information she wanted on his own.
He had been at his childhood home for a little over a week. He had arrived under the guise of attending to the estate, and though there was some truth to that, it was quite obviously the least of his reasons for running home.
Reasons aside, the most notable outcome of his presence was that he was driving all those in residence insane!
He was incessant, from morning to dust, fine combing the budget, questioning the servants on their weekly uses of soap and shoe polish. Measuring out Cook's flour and arguing that no loaf of bread justified such a wasteful amount of bench flour! He had questioned the Butler over every fine detail of the household's expenses and inefficiencies until the man's pride was positively stinging and his puffy face a worrying shade of purple.
The children had taken to avoiding him as he was constantly badgering them over their lessons and lecturing them on taking better care of their things. It had gotten so bad that Diana had ran to her Aunt in tears over his criticisms and Kara had loudly pronounced that he should mind his own business and even tried to bite him on the knee before being wrestled to the ground by Vanessa.
Even his mother hadn't been spared, as she had caught him counting the rolls of yarn in her knitting basket while making notes in his ledger.
Martha loved her son, but his obsessiveness was becoming a problem.
A small pang constricted her heart. How she wished Jonathan had taken more care in teaching their son how to manage his inheritance, but Clark had not shown much interest in it then, and they had both mistakenly believed there was still plenty of time. But there hadn't been, and now Martha worried as she watched her son struggle with the responsibilities, he was ill-equipped to handle. Including his wife.
Clark continued to pretend to not notice his mother's concern and adjusted his glasses further down on his nose, to magnify the words on the paper, and blur the troublesome image of his mother's face.
"So, Clark, how is Lois?"
There it is. Clark thought. He looked at her, she looked so tired, how could he trouble her with more worries that she couldn't fix? Better to let her live-in blissful ignorance.
He was saved from answering by a knock on the door.
"What is it Desmond?" Clark asked.
"Forgive me milady, but a message has arrived from Wayne Castle."
"Thank you, Desmond." Martha smiled politely taking the note.
The Butler bowed and left the room, never acknowledging the master's presence.
Clearly, he still hasn't forgiven me. Clark thought guiltily.
"Oh my!"
Clark jumped up at his mother's cry and rushed to her side.
"What is it Ma?"
"Bruce Wayne is to be married!"
"What! To whom?"
Martha's eyes glistened with tears as she handed the letter to Clark. He took it from his mother's shaking hand and read it out loud.
"His Grace, Bruce Thomas Wayne, to marry, Miss Selina Maria Kyle, on May the 22nd year of our Lord 1844, at the church of St. Margaret, Gotham Kent."
Martha's face beamed with joy as she clasped her hands in a silent prayer of thanks.
"Tom and Mittie would be so pleased. Though I've never heard of his fiancée before, Clark do you know who she is?"
Clark shook his head.
"No, I've never met her, but I've heard she's a relative of Sir Randle."
Martha nodded thoughtfully, "Really? Well that would explain the service's location. Randle…I wonder…it must've been 25 years since…"
"What was that Ma?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing dear, well, I'm sure she's lovely. It's about time that gloomy old castle had a lady's touch."
"Don't let Alfred here you say that, he'd be quite offended." Clark laughed gleefully as he read the invitation one more time. "Maybe Diana will finally stop loitering over there now."
Clark was so absorbed in thought he didn't see his mother's smile fall away and her eyes widen with concern.
Diana's infatuation had not dimmed and was causing him continued concern. Perhaps now the whole matter could be laid to rest and Diana could get back to enjoying her childhood.
This quiet reflection was shattered by the loud of abrupt entrance of the girl herself, bursting into the room.
"Did Bruce send a letter?"
Clark stared blankly at the young girls smiling face.
"Diana dear, come have a seat."
Martha cleared a space next to her on the divan and Diana dutifully plopped down, looking up at Clark with expectant eyes. Clark continued to remain silent.
Reaching over Aunt Martha took one of the girl's hands in her soft ones.
"Diana, Bruce has sent us an invitation."
The young girl looked confused.
"Invitation to what?"
Martha hesitated; Clark , however, was no longer lost for words.
"His wedding." Clark said calmly.
Again, her eyes lit up as she turned back to her cousin.
"To Miss Selina Kyle."
The light instantly died, and Martha watched silently as those azure eyes dimmed and darkened before her.
The air grew thick as the silence drug on. Clark began to squirm under her gaze and fought the urge to retreat behind the safety of the desk.
Martha patted her hand, Clark kept clearing his throat, trying to think of what he should say, while Diana continued to look at him.
"You will have a new dress for the wedding," Clark said, trying to think of something positive for her to react to, instead of sitting there like marble. "It will probably be a large event, normally ladies not out in society can't attend the evening celebrations but maybe we could make an exception—"
In a flash, Diana stood, brushed past him and slammed the door as she left, making the portrait of his father swing on the wall.
Clark turned in shock to his mother who shook her head at him.
"Oh Clark, I'm afraid that was the wrong thing to say."
—Diana
Branches slapped her bare legs, hair stung her face, every breath burned her throat as she struggled to breathe, and her mouth tasted of salt as tears flowed uncontrolled blinding her vision, making her totally dependent on the horse as it ran free from direction through the forest.
A feeling of weightlessness filled her as they jumped another obstacle, was it a fence or hedge? Diana didn't know, she continued to bury her face in the black mare's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of sweat and horsehair, letting the animal race freely.
It can't be true, it just can't be true, why? Why would he do that? He loves me, I thought you loved me!
The pounding of hooves echoed the pounding in her head.
Me, you were supposed to marry me!
Again, the weight on her chest lifted as horse and rider lifted in the air and landed on the beaten earth with a thud.
How could she be so stupid, how could she have been so wrong!
Faster, run faster, FASTER!
Diana lifted her head, pressing her knees into the animal's sides she drove her on through the forest.
Faster…
They had to outrun it, not think about the past, flee what hurt, they had to go faster.
Here it came, another obstacle to jump over, she saw the fallen tree across the path, with increased desperation she drove the horse faster towards the obstacle, she needed to clear it, she needed to escape, she wanted to fly!
The tree sped closer, in anticipation Diana lifted herself up from the horse's back, loosening her hands from the mane, waiting to fly.
THUD!
Diana reached for the mane in vain. The next thing she felt was a fire burning through her entire body, she was suffocating, her lungs fought to fill with air, but her throat wouldn't open. She dug her fingers into the soft dirt as her nostrils drowned with the stench of damp earth.
Pushing down against the ground she raised to her knees, every muscle screaming and quivering in protest.
Diana clawed her nails through the dirt, gritting her teeth she tried to take a breath.
Needles stabbed her chest as the air forced its way into her constricted lungs and she coughed violently through the pain.
"Na-di-RA!" she screamed and looked back accusingly at the horse that stood unashamed before the tree it had refused to jump.
As if to confirm its indifference the beast blew hot air from its nostrils and began to munch on a patch of grass beneath the fallen branches.
Diana sighed and rolled over to a sitting position.
"What am I going to do Nadira? He was my first friend; I don't want to say goodbye to anyone else."
The horse snorted and meandered over to her where her mistress sat.
Diana rested her chin on her knees and looked at her muddy hands, watching as small bubbles of red formed and rolled down her palms. She knew she should feel pain, but all she felt now was numb.
"I actually thought…he loved me."
A soft muzzle nudged her head and hot breath blew over her face.
Diana let out a shaky breath, brushed her eyes with heal of her hand, sniffed, and slowly stood up.
"Ok girl, let's go back."
Diana placed a hand along the horse's neck and took a step.
A bloodcurdling scream split the air as Diana dropped back to the ground.
Wayne Castle Kent England April 10, 1844
—Bruce
"Grayson, it's good to see you. Though I wish it was under different circumstances."
The two men clasped forearms and Bruce gave his first mate a strong clap on the back.
"Sorry Captain, I told you I'd stick around until I'd found a replacement, and I've finally found him."
"Well, if you're recommending him then that's good enough for me. I'll miss you Grayson, but I'm sure Mary will be happy to have you back on dry land."
The other man's brown eyes lit up at the mention of his fiancée and he gave his superior a sheepish grin.
"And what about you? I hear wedding bells are in your future too. I can't wait to meet the lady that caught Bruce Wayne's attention!"
Bruce gave an uncomfortable grunt and his friend laughed at the Duke's notorious introversion.
"I look forward to you meeting." Bruce replied diplomatically, "but shouldn't you introduce me to my new first mate? It seems rude to keep the man waiting much longer."
Coming back to the present Grayson nodded and rushed to the study door. Bruce, meanwhile, took his seat behind the desk, making sure all the contract details were ready for the new crewman's signature.
"Captain, I'd like to introduce Mr. John Stewart."
Bruce looked up.
The man stood tall and dignified, his face was stern and reserved, broad shoulders and calloused from working with rough ship ropes. His black skin was bronzed from the sun, his head was shaved, and a jagged scar ran down his left eyebrow and cheek barely missing his eye. His linen shirt and pants were clean and pressed and his mustache was neatly trimmed. He had brown eyes but when he moved his head tiny flashes of green flashed through them.
"John here is the best sailor in the western hemisphere." Grayson exclaimed.
Bruce stood up and stretched out his hand.
"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Steward."
The other man reciprocated a firm handshake.
"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce's eyebrows arched in surprise.
"You're American?" he asked.
"I'm a sailor." Stewart replied.
"Of course," Bruce motioned for John to take a seat as he sat back down, Grayson lounged against the bookcase.
"Well, Mr. Stewart, if Grayson here thinks you'd be a good first mate then that's all the assurance I need. Now about the contract, it's for three years, you'll be acting as captain unless I'm aboard, and the pay will be a 2% cut of the profits of each voyage as well as all provisions required for the duration. In the case of a loss a compensation will be paid based on the months at sea and difficulty of circumstances. Any questions?"
"How much tonnage can she carry and what type of ship?"
"Roughly 200 tons and she's a clipper."
"Seems fair. Where do I sign?"
Bruce handed him the contract and pushed forward the inkwell.
Stewart scanned the document quickly and signed. He and Bruce shook again, and Grayson gleefully slapped both men on the back.
"Well, I wish you both the best of luck men, and with that I happily retire."
Bruce smiled at his friend who began to lead the way out of the office.
Stewart began to follow but stalled and turned back.
He motioned towards Bruce's desk, "That's a fine chess set."
Bruce looked down at the intricately carved pieces made to replicate figures of Greek mythology.
"Thank you, it's a gift for a friend."