NOTE: I promise this is the LAST time I switch up this story. I've been wanting to wrap up this "past" storyline before I get to the main, present events. The basis of the narrative is still the same though. Enjoy.

III: The Red Door

June, 2006

She'd had her suspicions for as long as she could remember.

Like a heavy fog being lifted, her father's true character had been revealed to her. Her blindness wasn't her fault entirely, though. Ra's had been charming and kind and everything you would have expected a father to be. And all daughters do have a natural inclination towards their fathers – even fathers like Ra's al Ghul. In fact, she had some memories – vague ones. They were by no means happy recollections – in her world there were no such things – but they were nonetheless memories that she could never bring herself to forget.

If only she had known that it had all been a ploy to gain her trust.

At a young age she was taught the first and most basic lesson of the ninja: meditation. This to her came naturally, as it was easy for her to lose herself in the almost absolute silence that her father's compound provided when training sessions were not in place. But there was more to meditation than sitting in stillness. It was used to develop the mind; make it sharper and more aware. And for her, it was working.

Soon, she began to notice things about the silence. It began to seem wrong and unsettling; like it was some kind of thick veil hiding something from her. A pestering, nagging feeling soon blossomed in her gut and it became harder and harder to condone as she herself grew wiser with age. Yet her acquired self-control and mindfulness allowed her to fight against her instincts – but only for so long. And then it happened.

She'd been meditating in the garden when he came looking for her one night. Her acute senses had picked up on his presence almost immediately, yet she still found herself startled when she opened her eyes and felt his gaze on her face.

Ra's al Ghul chuckled at her slight gasp. "Did I startle you, dear Katerina?"

She forced herself to recover from her surprise and smiled back at him. "Not at all, father. What is it? More lessons?"

"No, nothing like that. I just came to tell you that supper is ready, my dear."

"Oh." She forced her body expression not to change as she silently celebrated in her head. "May I ask what Urambu has made?"

"Roasted duck, I believe." He offered her an arm and she took it eagerly, her appetite stirred by the six hours of training she'd undergone earlier.

They were halfway across the courtyard when something caught her eye.

A flash of red behind the wall closest to them. A silver sword slicing through the air. And then she was moving – spinning and kicking hard until she'd knocked the figure to the ground. Unbelievably fast, her father's men were on the intruder, relieving him of his weapon and bringing him before the intended victim.

Katerina had never seen her father this way before. She watched in unprecedented silence as he ordered his men to take the intruder away. His customary warmth was gone, replaced with a burning hatred that was expressed in every limb of his body.

But this man had tried to kill her father, hadn't he? He deserved it.

So why was her heart hammering so erratically against her chest?

Katerina did her very best to compose herself as her father offered his arm again. She took it, of course, and they continued their promenade to the dining area unperturbed.

But as soon as she sat down, her appetite vanished from her core. The roasted duck that would have normally made her salivate suddenly wasn't as appealing anymore, and she soon found herself pushing her food around with a fork.

Ra's al Ghul instantly took note of his daughter's behavior and did not hesitate to question it. "What is wrong, my dear? You usually attack your food as if you have not eaten in days." He paused, setting his fork down and folding his hands in front of his plate. "Is this about what happened in the courtyard?"

Katerina pushed air out of her nose and crossed her arms in an attempt to control her emotions. "No, father."

Ra's al Ghul suddenly slammed a fist onto the wood table, the impact causing the fragile chinaware to clink and clatter. "You dare lie!"

Katerina flinched, frightened by her father's sudden outburst. She answered in a small voice, her eyes cast downward. "Why were you so mean to that man?"

Ra's al Ghul sighed loudly and grasped his daughter's chin, forcing her eyes to his. "Some men do not understand nor appreciate the work we are trying to do here, Katerina. They know we are changing the world, and they fear that change."

All she could do was nod in response, her eyes still locked onto his. It would never be enough. Her insatiable need for the truth was left unquenched as always. Did she even know him?

Later that night, lying in bed, she prayed to God that sleep would come. And it did—but not in the way she wanted it to.

She was drowning. The water was swallowing her; enveloping her body in a blanket of black, suffocating darkness. But she wasn't struggling. No—it was almost peaceful. Her lungs burned, of course, but the pain was more of a far away feeling—as if it was someone else's and not her own. All she could see apart from the black dark was her hair floating around her and the golden skin of her hands and feet. For a while, she was floating in nothingness—in stasis.

And then she felt it. A hand on her ankle. Someone dragging her down, deeper into the ocean of her own fears.

Her peaceful state was interrupted as her eyes snapped open and she began fighting to get to the surface. But no matter how hard she shook or how insistently she clawed at the hand, nothing would go away. Long yellow nails dug deep red crests into the skin of her leg, refusing to release her.

She looked deeper into the darkness, seeking out the face of the monster that was trying to kill her. A pair of green eyes not unlike her own shone through the water like flashlights in the dark. They reminded her of a Cheshire Cat: accompanied by a sickening, slimy grin.

She tried to scream—a mistake that caused water to flood her burning lungs. This was no monster. This was a man. A man she knew all too well.

Fear crept into her stomach and buried itself there as he spoke in that silky voice of his that she had come to know so well. "Take my hand, my daughter, and we can change the face of this world. Together, you and I, we will make this world better."

"No!" Suddenly she could speak, her voice unexpectedly clear even in the depths of an ocean. "NO!"

But he continued to pull her down, his actions unperturbed by her plea. And soon her thrashing began to wane until she was hardly moving a finger, all the while being dragged deeper and deeper into the dark water.

She suddenly woke with wide eyes and a loud gasp.

It had only been a nightmare—a figment of her imagination. But the burning of her lungs and the lingering fear had felt so unutterably and incomparably real.

Suddenly the white bed sheet that was wrapped around her felt like a vice; she thrashed and thrashed until her limbs were free. There was no possibility of going back to sleep; she knew that. And so she roused from her bed and slipped quietly into the hallway.

Her breathing was still escalated as she paced back and forth, trying to relieve herself of the fear that still lingered in her core. It was a nightmare—and her father was the villain; he was the demon that plagued her conscience. How could this be? Her father was a good man—kind to her in every way that a father should be to his kin. But deep down, she knew that behind his charming smiles and kind eyes, her father hid something dark.

She saw glimpses of it at times; when he lost his temper there was often something in his eyes that offset the kind lines of his face. Sometimes she felt as though she was staring into the eyes of a tiger—

A blood-curdling scream suddenly cut off all thought. The noise echoed across the walls of the compound.

The night was still; no one had moved. Her father's foot soldiers had not come marching. This was his doing.

Katerina gasped. The man in the courtyard.

Dread weighed her chest down as she ran, afraid of what she might find. She remembered what her father had said about the red door near his living quarters: "You are never to come near here, child. Do you understand?"

And despite everything that her father had told her, despite his loyalty and charm, Katerina could no longer bring herself to turn a blind eye to this.

She opened the door.

Author's Notes:

I'm still trying to figure out the way that I want this story to go. I have quite a few chapters written down, but I am still trying to find the order in which I want them in. It's difficult because of the time jump between two distinct periods of Katerina's life. Oh well. I'll figure it out.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated!