PROLOGUE

Bruce: Chapter 4

"You will have to do it someday Bruce, you cannot avoid it forever," Rha's told him one day as they walked along the lake after sparring. The days where Rha's entered the training ring were the most interesting but also the most dangerous, as Rha's did not hold back like his underlings would. Rha's would always fight to kill, and had on several occasions over Bruce's five years here. Bruce would never come away unscathed from his training sessions with the master, but he would usually receive a compliment such as "Well fought bat" or "I suppose you are one of the least useless fools here." They were never respectful compliments when given in front of the other brothers of the League of Shadows, but it was on these walks with the master that Bruce received Lord Al Ghul's honest opinions.

"You have been here for more than five years, and have yet to make a kill. Even of the newest recruits, Darros and Karchken have killed others despite them being accidental. To be one of the League of Shadows you must be able to kill when the time calls. You must be able to do what is necessary," his master told him sternly but not commandingly. Rha's had not strictly commanded Bruce to do anything since partway through his second year when he defeated Rha's second in command, Ubu, in sword combat.

"I do not kill yet because I have not found a time that has called for it master. I have learned and seen many things in my years here with you, but have yet to find a man that was deserving of death. Darros is an arrogant fool and Karchken killed that man because he tripped into his sword. These are not kills with honor or glory, they are men swinging swords about as if they were children with sticks. If I kill it will be because there is no other choice, and only then," Bruce said with determination. Before he could turn to see the look on his master's face, Rha's Al Ghul erupted into light laughter, a very rare sight for even those that have been with him for decades.

"Ah young apprentice, your sincerity and bluntness is something I wish I had an unlimited amount of from those under me. Every day I must listen to constant attempts at trying to please me or to get on my better side, I grow tired of it. Not only are Darros and Karchken fools but they are no better fit to lead men than I am to swim across the Narrow Sea. I would trade two hundred of them for one of you any day. Perhaps I should refrain from calling you Bruce from this moment on, as that is not a name deserving of your skill. Your insight into men is something many of these oafs sorely lack. Perhaps I should title you the Shadow from now on, since shadows are everywhere yet nowhere, see and hear everything, but are never out rightly seen, and can lead to the downfall of man if they are not kept an eye on. Yes, I feel this name suits you well for the man I've seen you become," the master said with a slight snicker before pausing to look out at the lake. Bruce was confused; he had never seen his master laugh more than at his trainees' humorous failures, but here the powerful Rha's Al Ghul was laughing with Bruce, and bestowing a new title upon him.

His master's face slowly grew more serious, as the corners of his face lowered from the upward turn of a smile to the slim and pursed lines of his usual unemotional visage. "Well Shadow, use those detecting skills of yours, and tell me what I am thinking."

Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the complete shock he felt from being asked such a question from his master. "I uhh...I am not sure master.." Bruce replied slowly.

Rha's let out another small chuckle, "The great and fearsome Shadow has nothing to say to his master for once! Well this is a strange day." His face returned to its previous serious nature before he continued, "My time is growing nearer Shadow, before long I will join my beautiful wife and your parents in the eternal sleep. And I need to know I am leaving my League of Shadows in the hands of a capable and strong man. Not someone of weak ideals and a spine made of sand. You should be the one to lead these men when I am gone. I am asking you to not return to your already dying city of Gotham leagues away, stay here and raise an army that has the power to cripple entire countries if directed to. There is nothing for you there Shadow, I promise you that. Here there is opportunity, respect, and a life of certainty and comfort that the tumultuous seven kingdoms could never give you."

Bruce still had his mouth gaped open, unsure of how to respond to such a gracious offer, but had no chance to respond before Rha's smiled and said, "You need not answer now. You have until the moment I am on my deathbed to give me your reply if we are going to speak reasonably. But I would hope you would not wait until that moment Shadow, for I would like some peace of mind as I slowly let death take me. But I have spoken enough, I must go inside and meet with Ryho, if you would be so kind to wait here, I should not be long." Bruce blinked and looked around to his surroundings, not realizing they had walked a quarter of the way around the lake already and stood next to the League's barracks.

"Yes of course master..." was all he could manage to get out from between his lips before Rha's strode away from him, not particularly waiting for a response. Rha's Al Ghul was the type of man to wait for no other man.

"You can come out from behind there now," Bruce said to the tree twenty paces to his left, as if the tree could hear him. "Damn, now even the so called 'Shadow' can hear me coming up on him, however will I be able to kill you?" a feminine voice from behind the tree replied. Bruce smiled and said back, "While I sleep." The woman emerged from behind the thick brown base of the tree and said with a smile on her beautiful thin lips, "There's small chance of that from what I hear, even among the newest of recruits to the cause it is known that the Bat from Westoros rarely sleeps."

Talia was a woman whose beauty was only bested by her deadly cunning. She had long brown hair that usually covered the left side of her face and eyes as light and blue as the sky above the plains the Dothraki road through. Her skin was a fair light brown, and she usually was dressed in a leather vest with satin sleeveless tunic underneath. She always carried a short sword and some throwing knives on her, although only the sword was usually visible. She could best any man in the sparring rings, whether with sword, dagger, staff, or nothing but her smooth as silk hands. Bruce had been the first in years to actually defeat her in hand to hand combat. An experience she repaid in kind two weeks later when they next sparred and she left him with an arm pulled from its socket and a fractured shin. Bruce had learned to fight her to a tie from that point forward, but some of the men had not been so lucky. A new recruit had once tried drunkenly groping her last year on his first night here, and was found dead with no visible wounds the next morning.

"So am I the Bat of Westoros? Or the Shadow of man as your father would lead men to believe?" Bruce replied with a coy smile across his lips.

"I am not sure, you are as weak and irritating as a bat, but you are also as harmless and afraid as a shadow. Although, there is another title for you as of late I've heard," she said with a playful tone as she approached Bruce.

"Oh? And what would that be my lady?" he said playing this game that they had both come to love. She looked at him with a smirk that looked equal parts playful and equal parts deadly, before saying "I do not remember, perhaps you could shed some light on it, My Beloved."

They leaned in to kiss each other as they often did this past year when they had moments alone together. The moment was perfect, and Bruce could not tell whether the kiss lasted seconds or hours. The wind lightly blowing over them as they stood next to the pure blue-hued lake that came with the afternoon sun and the trees rattled their leaves above them. It made for a moment that seemed out of one of Alfred's stories. Perhaps Rha's Al Ghul was right, Bruce had so much here, what was really waiting for him in Gotham but a dark life of solitude? Bruce would not get to ask for Talia's opinion on the matter though, as their kiss came to an abrupt end.

"So Shadow, I see you have found our shadow that has been following us this afternoon. I'm glad to see your many years of training have taught you to fight back so swiftly and decisively," Rha's Al Ghul said with a wry smile less than two feet from where they were embraced. The two lovers awkwardly but quickly separated much to the enjoyment of Rha's Al Ghul which was clearly shown on the humored expression on his face. Bruce had forgotten how quiet the man could be even for a soul his age.

"I uh… I am sorry master we did not hear you coming," Bruce tried to hide the slowly rising redness in his cheeks. "It is fine apprentice; my daughter is a temptation few men can turn away from. How has your day been thus far daughter? I'm sure you've no doubt found joy in overhearing our, what was meant to be private, conversation?" Rha's asked of his daughter, Talia Al Ghul.

"Oh father don't play the fool, you knew I was there the entire time. You only do not scold me because I've been able to beat anyone who has tried since my twelfth name day. And My Beloved is the best choice to lead these men once you sadly pass from this world," Talia said as if she had been rehearsing it the whole time she had been tailing them.

"Ah yes, my always supportive daughter," Rha's said with a thin air of sarcasm. "Now tell me Shadow, has my daughter helped convince you to stay any more than my promises of power, purpose, and comfort have?"

Bruce looked from his love to his master and said "She certainly has not hurt my decision." Rha's laughed lightly and said, "Then perhaps she has finally made a good decision in her life, as I hope you are to do soon as well."

Bruce: Chapter 5

Bruce tossed and turned in his bed, the sheet that was on him was pushed off the bed onto the floor hours ago. Cold sweat covered his brow and chest, as his eyes seemed to wince in pain despite his body being unharmed. The occasional groan or shuddering moan escaped his throat as he restlessly turned in bed.

He was sitting in a playhouse, watching a performance of one of the stories Alfred had told him about before bed. His father was sitting to his left wearing his best black doublet with gold trim, the bat of Wayne on his breast. His mother sat on the other side in a beautiful dark dress with a stunning necklace of white pearls sitting around her neck. Bruce had not cared for these sorts of extravagant events, and often wished he was back home sitting by the fire or playing knight with Alfred. Bruce could not help letting his mind wander and his eyes glaze over as he turned his sights inwards to his imagination. His father would always notice right away and nudge Bruce's shoulder to stir him back to reality saying that while many of these events were boring, they uplifted peoples' spirits, gave them something to laugh and smile at. So even if Bruce would rather be elsewhere, the people of Gotham needed things to be happy about in times as dark as these.

Bruce did not know much about what happened outside of Gotham, but he was aware that the current king, a Targaryen, had gone mad and was acting more violent and unpredictable by the day. His father would not tell him everything, just that he was doing very evil things and many people suffered for it. Bruce always thought his father should have been king. Thomas Wayne was many things, but violent and unjust he was not. His father would be able to keep the peace, make the Lannister's, Stark's, Tully's, all of them happy and would actually help people.

Even now his father would often walk through the city streets among the people of the city. He would make small talk with the bakers, jest with the blacksmiths, and every day would buy flowers for his wife from traveling street merchants from all over the seven kingdoms. He would not sit atop the Iron Throne and think of himself as better than other men, knowing his father he would rarely sit in the cursed chair to begin with.

Bruce was pulled from his thoughts back to the play as the actors began screaming, for the monster had just walked out onto the stage. The hero stood sword in hand, prepared to fight the beast or die, but Bruce could only look at him as a foolish actor. Any real man would have run scared at the sight of a monster, not stayed to fight for some sense of honor. He wondered what he would do if a monster came for him in the night, and he only had a sword to defend himself with. The thought scared Bruce, and the longer he looked at the monster as it lurked around the stage the more fear overtook him. Then, ropes with cloth bats fell from the rafters, twirling and fluttering as they dangled above the stage. Bruce's fear continued to take hold of him, as cold sweat started to lightly spot his forehead. Bruce had always been a scared child, never wanting to go far from his family's castle's walls without at least Alfred there. But even he was confused as to how violently fear was taking him over, but fear was irrational after all. It made Bruce restless in his seat. He wanted to get as far away from the monster and bats and stage as quickly as possible.

Bruce's father was the first to notice his son's change in demeanor, seeing his son's eyes wide and white with fear while fidgeting in his seat. His mother took notice a few seconds later and they met each other's eyes and with a quick look of parental understanding knew they must go.

"Hey Bruce how about we go outside for a bit? It gets so stingy in these play halls sometimes and I could use some nice cold air huh?" Thomas Wayne said with all of the understanding in the world. Bruce nodded, secretly overjoyed and relieved that he would be getting his wish of leaving but trying not to let his father see that. They stood together and made their way into and up the aisle towards the back of the theater. His father's personal guards tried to follow before Thomas said it was unnecessary, but two defiantly followed them anyways.

Once outside in the alley behind the theater, the guards stood by the door with their hands rested on the pommels of their swords as the Wayne's tended to their only son. Bruce had not remembered a time when the cold night air felt this good in his lungs. He took slow, deliberate but most of all deep breaths, as Thomas kept a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Ah now that feels better doesn't it Bruce? Those damn play theaters get used so infrequently that you can almost smell the dust that's built up over the months. Sorry dear I just needed a second, we can go back in in a minute," Bruce's father said unconvincingly trying to take the blame for being the one who wanted to leave the theater. Bruce looked up at his father and met his gaze, suddenly feeling stronger than even Lord Tywin Lannister must feel. All of that changed in an instant though, as Bruce heard footsteps behind him.

There were three of them, all wearing black cloaks with no trim or sigil or any hint of color on them, just eternal darkness. Bruce felt the cold shudder of fear trickle down his spine as he gazed at the strangers. The guards left their posts by the door and walked briskly to the Wayne's side.

"Halt. State your name and purpose here or we will be forced to take action," one of the guards said with steely resolve. Bruce did not see anything but the blur of the left-most stranger's arm as he heard the loud metal thud of one of the guard's falling to the ground a few moments later. Bruce turned to the downed guard and saw a crossbow bolt jutting from the man's neck. His father's guard while armored, were only clad lightly in steel. They wore helms, and gauntlets, shoulder guards, chest armor, greaves and thigh guards, but the plating was separated, not guarded underneath by mail or lighter plates. His father said that there was no point in making a man's back break just to follow them around all day. The city had its fair share of crime, but Thomas was a very trusting man. Bruce had wondered if his father had regretted that decision now.

Another bolt flew through the air before anyone had time to react, and took the other guard right through his windpipe. The man gasped and struggled for air as he fell to the ground and life slowly left him. Bruce's father spoke now, asking calmly, "What is it that you want?"

The center cloaked stranger slowly approached as he replied with, "Just the lady's pearls, and all the gold you happen to be carrying on you at the moment m'lord."

Bruce watched his father look at his wife slowly, before saying, "Alright, we'll just handle this calmly and no one else needs to be hurt." The stranger did not agree with this schedule it seemed, as he reached forward and wrapped a hand around his mother's necklace.

The rest was just one giant blur to Bruce, as his father stepped in between his wife and this stranger. There was a flash of silver as his father suddenly gasped for air in pain, a dagger protruding from his stomach. Bruce's mother screamed but only for an instant as the stranger took the knife from his father's belly to his mother's neck as a fountain of red followed the horizontal slash across her fair skin. They both collapsed at once, falling to the ground side-by-side, just as how they walked through life. The stranger ripped the pearls from his mother's neck and gave a lingering look that met Bruce's gaze, cold-hearted steel in one set of eyes and confused, shocked fear in the other. The strangers left the alley in a rush, as quietly as they had come.

Bruce collapsed to his knees beside his father; his mother's spirit had already left her. As Thomas Wayne met eyes with his son for the last time, pain contorting his face, his lips slowly began to tighten to form his final words. As soon as he gazed upon his son, his face calmed, his body stopped struggling, and his lips began to move. "Don't be afraid Bruce…" was the last thing he said to his son. His eyes glazed over and lost their color, before his eyelids slowly closed for the final time. With that, Thomas and Martha Wayne, lord and lady of the City of Gotham, second wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, and parents to an orphaned son passed from this world, together.

He did not know how long he sat there on his knees, still looking at his father's face afraid to look away. At some point someone discovered the scene, and called for help. Within minutes the City Watch was there, along with many of the guests to the play choosing this scene over the one on stage. They all crowded and tried to beat each other to seeing the sorrowful scene, the bodies and the newly orphaned nobleman's son. Soon the head of the City Watch had arrived; waving people back into the building or street and away from the scene. He slowly approached the boy, knelt down beside him, and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. He took his cloak off and wrapped it around the boy and helped Bruce find the strength to stand and look away from the bodies of his parents. Bruce stared at the man's face for a while; it was the first thing he had looked at since watching his father's life ebb away in front of him.

The man had some wrinkles on his brow and ends of his mouth, but did not look stone and cold. His hair was a soft orange hue, as was the thick mustache that hung above his lips. His eyes reminded him of his father's, caring pools of color, but while his father's had been brown this man's were lakes of dark green. "It will be alright son, we'll find them, and you'll be safe now, I promise," the man said with such an amount of determination and caring that Bruce had almost confused it for his father speaking.

A guardsman approached the leader of the city guard from behind and stated, "Ser Gordon, we have found two men in the alley behind the bakery."

The red-haired man stood from his kneeling beside Bruce, "Dead I'm sure, and no signs of who they were?" The guardsman nodded and said, "Sorry Ser but yes, and stripped bare."

Gordon returned to kneeling to meet eyes with Bruce before slowly saying, "I'm sorry son, but at least we got two of them, how many were there?" Bruce did not answer or even move, just continued looking into Ser Gordon's eyes. "That's alright son, we'll figure that all out later…is there someone who looks after you when your parents aren't around?" To this Bruce's lips found the strength to move, and he quietly whispered "Alfred."

Bruce's eyes opened wide, as he gasped for breath and remembered he was not in Gotham as a boy, but in bed at the palace of Rha's Al Ghul as a man. Bruce slowly laid back down, cold sweat covering his body, his breath slowing, as he remembered that it was just a dream. The thought did not give him very much solace, as it was not so much a dream as it was a nightmare that had the power to haunt him day or night, even leagues away from his home. He turned on his side as he contemplated leaving his bed to continue training despite the camp not needing to wake for another few hours yet, or to try and return to sleep but ultimately fail. Bruce rolled out of bed as his hands and feet caught him before hitting the floor, and began his routine for the day.

Bruce: Chapter 6

The mornings were beautiful here, Bruce's favorite time of day. The sky was a shade of grayish-blue as the sun slowly peaked from over the mountain range to the north of the palace grounds. He wondered how many sunrises he had watched rise over the mountains from the terrace of his room over his years here. At the beginning of his third year here Rha's had moved his living arrangements from the barracks of the rest of the trainees here to a guest room in the palace of the master himself. Bruce actually preferred this room to his room in Wayne Castle, preferring the white marble and granite to the dark brick walls of his family's castle. The palace of Al Ghul was a beautiful structure, with the main pillar stretching into the sky surrounded by three smaller towers standing half as tall as the central one. There were no demons or gargoyles standing watch over this palace as they did over Wayne Castle, but guardians in beautiful cloaks with wings sprouting from their back. Bruce had never seen a place so light and beautiful as this in all of his travels.

He heard a rustling from behind him, as Talia approached him wearing nothing but a silk sheet from his bed. She leaned against his back, resting her head on the back of his shoulder.

"Beloved, why do you torment yourself so? Even after a night as tiring as the one we shared last night you still are so restless and unable to close your eyes for more than a few minutes. Is it I that keeps you awake at night?" she asked coyly.

"No, you keep me up later than my thoughts to be sure, but you are not the reason I cannot sleep my love," he replied as he turned to face her. They kissed, and she slid her head down to his chest as he embraced her with his strong arms.

"We spend out nights together half of the week, and yet you seem to still find no peace," she said sounding uncharacteristically concerned.

"Because I'm still missing something, I have you, the skills, the knowledge, everything I thought I would need to start my new life, but I feel like there is something missing still," Bruce said looking out to the forests beside the palace.

A knock at the door disturbed their moment of peace, as Lord Al Ghul had sent for Bruce to meet him at high noon. When Bruce arrived at his master's private study, he found him enthralled in a massive tomb that had uneven page edges and was bound by golden rings. "Come Shadow, sit sit, we have much to discuss," Rha's said without lifting his head or eyes from the text. Bruce sat on the nearest stool to his master as opposed to the comfortable satin chair that Rha's had gestured to. "You will never-endingly defy me it seems apprentice. Now, what do you know of the Targeryens?" he asked Bruce while turning the page.

"Their sigil is a three headed dragon, and the last king of their line went mad and killed hundreds and was responsible for the deaths of many more," Bruce said easily.

"Good, and what of their children?" Rha's responded.

"All of the Targeryens were killed in Westeros, but the two youngest of their bloodline managed to escape, but no one knows to where," Bruce responded once again sure of his answer.

"And that is where you are wrong Shadow," Rha's said, finally looking up from the book to meet Bruce's gaze. "The two dragon hatchlings are in Pentos, in the Free Cities. The boy and his sister, he has taken to calling himself 'The Dragon' my spies tell me. Ha, what foolishness and brazenness comes with childhood. His sister cannot be more than ten years on this earth, her brother a few more. But they live, with some wealthy man named Illyrio, he is no threat, but these children present one," his master said sternly. Bruce waited a moment before replying,

"But they are only children, surely they can do no harm to us or the world?"

"Not yet, but what happens apprentice when you let a dragon grow from its egg for years? It becomes a massive terror that can fly across nations leaving nothing but a wake of fire and destruction in its path. We have men all over the world Shadow, Westoros, the Free cities, even Vaes Dothrak, but we act only when we need to. These self-titled kings and lords of Westoros, Aerys Targaryen, Robert Baratheon, his brother Stannis, Stark, Greyjoy, it matters not to us. They will always kill and fight for power and titles. That is simply how the world turns," Rha's took a drink of wine before continuing.

"But if someone such as these children, if they grow up vengeful, and should decide to burn a whole continent or two in vengeance for their family line? That requires action. It is rumored that they plan to wed this girl to a powerful Dothraki Khal when she is of age in hopes of obtaining an army to invade the seven kingdoms," Rha's said before taking another sip.

Bruce interjected before he had finished, "But they are merely men of the horse, they would not cross the sea unless someone built a bridge of earth to bridge the two sides."

"Ah yes, but with promises of a whole new land to pillage, rape, and maraud? A smart Khal with a horde of men dwarfing any single household's army of Westoros, he could be more willing to set sail. That is something we must avoid Shadow, that is more than just killing each other in the name of power or fame. With the strength of a horde even fifty thousand strong the Dothraki would be able to sweep through the seven kingdoms in a matter of months. The castles and strongholds could hold them off well enough, but only until their supplies run out. Meanwhile the villages and towns and countryside would be laid to waste. We must take care of this threat Shadow, and I am choosing you to handle it." Bruce looked surprised even though he shouldn't have since Rha's had just offered him to take over in his place less than two months ago.

"What would you have me do master? Kill children?" Bruce replied unsure.

"I am asking you to do what is necessary Shadow, and nothing more. Infiltrate the city, the palace where they sleep. You can order another of my men to take the life of the other dragon, but you must kill the other. This is the moment where you show your dedication to our cause. I understand your dislike of killing mindlessly, I agree in full, killing needlessly makes us no better than the mindless savages that live beyond the Wall of the seven kingdoms. But this is not random killing, this is to save the lives of possibly hundreds of thousands." There was no question or hesitation in Rha's Al Ghul's voice, this was an order, not a request.

"Yes master" was all that Bruce had said. The next morning he had set out for Pentos with the mission of killing children, may his parents' spirits forgive him.