Here's Part 2 of my little elseworld. Thanks to Robin for beta reading for me. Hope you all enjoy! Char :-)

Once Upon a Time: Part 2:

After the jester's savage attack on the Lady Selina, Duchess of Wayne, the king's knights searched for the court jester, as the king's physicians attended the Lady Selina. Her condition was grave. Bruce, Lord Wayne, was a man of conflicting emotions. The rage within him demanded that he seek retribution, but his family needed him to stay in Gotham. And his love for Selina kept him from straying from her side.

Bruce sat in the antechamber watching his children. He marveled at how stoically Richard comforted the younger boys, and he remembered how bravely the lad had fought Selina's attacker. How bravely both of his older sons had fought. If only he had gotten to the room a few moments sooner, he wouldn't have to wait for the guards to find the foul man who had ravaged his wife. The man would have been dead where he stood.

Alfred moved closer to Bruce, placing his hand on his nephew's shoulder. He knew Bruce was not a patient man, and it had been hours since there had been word on Selina's condition. He feared Bruce's reaction should he lose Selina. And right now there was nothing they could do, nothing except pray. Alfred looked up as he heard the door creaking open, he saw his wife's sad expression.

Bruce looked up as his aunt entered the room. He found he couldn't stand as he waited for word on Selina. Leslie moved past the children to Bruce, she didn't want them to overhear their conversation.

"How is she?" he asked in a low voice as Leslie stood before him.

"She'll live Bruce. But her injuries were severe. Did you know that she was with child?" Bruce's blue eyes were full of pain and confusion as he looked at his aunt. Child? He and Selina were having another child? "Was with child"? He found he had no voice as Leslie continued speaking. "She miscarried the child. It was a daughter. Bruce, she won't ... she'll never ..." Leslie couldn't finish as the tears fell from her eyes.

Bruce nodded. He understood. "May I see her, Aunt?"

Leslie nodded as he walked past her into the bedchamber. Alfred and Leslie turned to see the three frightened faces looking at them. They moved to the children to comfort and explain.

"Mother?" Timothy's young voice asked, as tears flowed from his eyes.

Leslie picked the lad up and placed him in her lap. "Your mother will be fine."

Timothy threw his small arms around his great-aunt's neck and buried his head in her shoulder. Jason let out a sigh as he moved closer to his uncle. Richard watched them all and remembered his father's face as he spoke with Leslie. He knew there was something more something they were keeping from them.

The young princess Barbara played on the outskirts of the castle near the river. She skipped along skimming stones across the water's surface. As she played, a thin, pale hand moved the leaves so that the sinister figure could watch her from the underbrush. As the young child moved further away from the castle, the leering figure followed her.

He saw an opportunity to move from the bushes, to grab his prize. But, as he started, he heard the king's guards. The jester knew they were looking for him. Wayne's children had spoiled his plans. He knew he could never return to his position in the castle. He also knew that capture would mean death. Unless

Quickly, he looked around. He saw a long branch on the ground. Picking it up, he moved, still hidden in the bushes, until he was close to the princess. Quietly, he maneuvered the stick so that the princess tripped, falling into the deep river. She screamed as the rapid water dragged her downstream, against her struggles.

He saw the king's guards approaching. He knew he couldn't outrun them. So the jester made his move. Jumping into the river, he swam toward the nine year old princess. Grabbing her and pulling her from the river just as the guards reached its banks.

Bruce sat with Selina, her hand in his, as she quietly sobbed. His other hand stroked her long dark hair. The had talked as much as she could, until their was only silence between them. Silence and her sobs. Their grief needed no words.

Bruce looked up as the door slowly opened, and his uncle walked in.

"My lord, a word in private."

Bruce read the seriousness of his uncle's expression. Kissing Selina on the forehead, he left her side. "Yes, Uncle Alfred," he asked as the door shut behind them. He noticed that Leslie and the children were no longer in the antechamber.

"King James' men have captured the jester. King James wishes to see you in the Great Hall."

Alfred watched as his nephew's face hardened. Bruce grabbed his sword and left the room. His pace was almost a run. Alfred followed behind him, fear in his heart at what Lord Bruce would do.

Bruce entered the King's great hall. King James sat upon his throne. The jester stood to the side of the room surrounded by the king's guards.

"Give him to me, your Grace, and I shall mete out his punishment," Bruce said as he strode across the Hall, his hand on his sword's hilt.

"That is a request I cannot honor," the king replied.

"That you cannot? What do you mean?"

"My former jester has wronged you and your lady," King James began, "and ordinarily, I would turn him over to you for your punishment. But, today he has saved my daughter's life."

"He. Did. What?"

"Saved the life of my daughter, your princess. If not for my jester, my daughter would have drowned. For that reason, I cannot allow you to kill him."

Bruce felt rage swelling within him. "Cannot? You cannot let him go unpunished. I WILL NOT let him go unpunished!"

"Lord Bruce! I have already decided this matter," King James forcefully said as he stood and walked down toward his knight. "He shall be exiled. Never allowed to return. Life outside of our kingdom is hard. That shall be his punishment."

Bruce's eyes burned with the fire of hatred as he stared at the jester's smiling face. "If you cannot stomach it , I WILL act where you fear to!" His hand swiftly pulled his sword from it's scabbard as he started for the jester. The king's guards drew their swords and stood between the Duke and his target.

"Lord Bruce, stop!" the king shouted. "I command it!"

"Bruce!" Alfred's voice called from the door. The young noble turned toward his uncle as he stopped his advance.

The King walked closer to the young Duke. "I forbid you from harming him. My guards will take him to the borders of our county and impose his exile upon him. You will not harm him, here or elsewhere. That is my command to you. I have decided the proper punishment for the jester, you shall not countermand me, Lord Wayne."

Bruce looked at his king. Bruce had faithfully served him all of his adult life. But at this moment, he only felt disdain for him. Again he turned to his uncle. He needed the elderly man's guidance. Alfred's eyes implored him to hold his tongue and his temper. To remember his oath and his station. To not act rashly.

Motionless, he watched as the guards escorted the jester from the room. At the door the jester stopped, looking back at him with a wicked grin. The anger welled within him, yet Lord Bruce held his composure.

The room was silent.

Alfred moved to his nephew, who remained motionless in the center of the hall. "My liege," he began addressing the king, "I believe my nephew should return to chambers now."

"I believe it is time that the Duke returned to his castle," King James replied turning and leaving the room. His displeasure at the young Duke's defiance dripped from his every word.

"Come, Bruce. Let's see if Selina can travel."

"So there were two exiles this day," Bruce said softly to his uncle.

The young Duke took his family and his retinue and returned to Castle Wayne. No longer was the Dark Knight the favorite of the realm. Many years passed before the Duke was invited back to the halls of Gotham. And when the Duke did go, he always went alone. Leaving his family at Castle Wayne He never wanted to trust their safety in Gotham again.

His sons grew strong, learning from their father the ways of a knight. Bruce and Selina seemed content, living on their lands, watching their children grow. As a Duke, Lord Bruce had the authority to knight his sons. And on their sixteenth birthdays he had knighted both Richard and Jason, sending the documentation to Gotham by messenger, so their knighthoods would be enrolled in the lists of the knights.

Richard and Jason sparred in the courtyard of their home. Timothy watched his older brothers as he held onto their spare weapons. Richard's blade was swift and powerful. It only took a few moves before he had disarmed his younger brother and had him on the ground.

"Do you admit I'm your better, Jay?" Richard asked with a smile as he stood over his brother.

A wide grin formed on Jason's face as he quickly kicked his brother's legs from under him causing Richard to fall to the ground. "Never!"

Timothy laughed as he watched them. Looking down at the pair of spare swords, he grinned. Dropping one to the ground, he drew the other from it's scabbard and advanced on his brothers. "I can beat you both," he boasted.

Richard and Jason watched the fourteen year old approaching. They started laughing, then grabbed their swords and stood together.

"Squire Timothy is challenging two knights of the realm," Richard began. "Sir Jason, what shall we do with him?"

"Disarm him. Then hang him upside down in the orchard. Naked."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Richard replied.

"No fair!" Timothy called. "I can beat you both, father's been showing me how. Just not at the same time. Let me spar with you."

Jason looked to Richard, "Should we? I mean, we ARE knights. He's just a squire."

"Alright, Squire Timothy, let's see what you can do," Richard said as he lifted his sword in mock salute at his youngest brother and moved into a position to parry with the boy.

Timothy smiled and started showing his brothers what he had been learning. Jason watched as Timothy sparred with Richard. He had to admit, the boy was quite good. But then again, their father was the best teacher. They had grown up on legends of their father's prowess as a warrior. It was no accident that all of Lord Wayne's sons would be adept at the ways of the sword.

Jason caught Richard's feint to the left. He broke out in a grin. He knew what was coming, Timothy had no clue. Timothy moved left as Richard flipped over the boy's head landing behind him, his sword in Timothy's back.

"Yield, young squire," Richard laughed.

Timothy made a face as he dropped the sword to the ground. "That's not fair!"

"Battle's never fair little brother," Richard said as he walked around to face the boy. "We're not training for fun, we train to win in battle. To live."

Jason applauded his older brother. "Sounds just like father doesn't he?"

"Uh-huh," Timothy replied.

Richard shook his head, then began some good-natured teasing of his own. "Well, one of the three of us has to have some knowledge other than using a sword - and that would be me. After all," he continued with a mock smile, "one day I'll be the Duke and you two will be my vassals. Knights in my retinue. The hired help. "

Jason and Timothy looked at each other as their elder brother continued his playful taunting. A silent idea passed between them. Turning on Richard they both advanced quickly, pouncing on him and knocking him to the ground.

Their laughter filled the courtyard.

In the Northern country the land of the Picts the former court jester had recovered from his fall, acquiring some lands and men loyal to him. Although, life in the land of the Picts was hard not the easy life he had at the Court of the King of Gotham.

Yet, his hatred for the sons of the Duke of Wayne grew with each year as his spies kept him informed of their growth and progress. One day, he would tell himself, he would make them pay. Pay for interrupting him, for spoiling his plans, for causing his exile, He would revel in their pain and feel great joy when he destroyed their lives just like the way the 'Lady' Selina should have been destroyed.

They had interrupted him. When he had enjoyed servant girls, he was never interrupted. They had dared to stop him to attack him even. He was only taking what he had a right to. Didn't he sit next to the king on the diadem even. Only he and the king. All others were less than they were. He had a right to take whomever he wished. And Wayne's sons interfered.

And while he suffered here in the barren cold wasteland of the Picts, the Dukedom of Wayne has prospered. The King's misplaced loyalty caused his exile when he had done nothing that should have been punished. He was simply taking what should be his ... something common.

The jester had lost his place of honor at the king's side. Lost it because of them. Someday they will pay tenfold for what they have done to him and he will gain tenfold what was stolen from him.

To be continued