Ok! So here is the actual story finally! I'll be updating each week with two or three chapters and just like in the book each chapter is from the perspective of a different character, I hope you like it!
Bruce: GOT Chapter 1
It was a long ride back to Gotham, and they still had a fortnight before they reached those dark brick walls surrounding the city. They had landed in King's Landing a week ago, after two at sea and Bruce's patience had almost reached their limits. Over fourteen years of waiting, preparing, training, and what it all was for was finally within his grasp. They had rode through Tumbleton and just departed from Bitterbridge last night. I have waited this long, a few more days means nothing to me.
Lucius had proven to be invaluable company on the road, telling Bruce of people he had met, pyromancers he had learned under, mixtures and concoctions he had heard of with effects Bruce thought the blacksmith had made up. What interested Bruce most however were Lucius' ideas for inventions. It seemed the smith had a likening for tinkering and experimenting in his free time. Lucius even had sketches for what some of them looked like and how they would function. Bruce planned to invest a lot of time and gold into seeing these creations made real and determine how well they would practically work.
One of the more interesting drawings showed what appeared to be a crossbow but the bolt was tethered by a tightly wrapped, lightweight line of some form of metal rope. The typical arrowhead of the bolt was replaced with a larger arrow made of Valyrian steel with three arms branching off of it. When shot, Lucius said that the bolt-head would catch hold of a rooftop and the length of metal rope would be able to support a man climbing up it.
Lucius had brought much with him, a full wagon of supplies, tools, half-finished inventions, and three more wagons filled with only steel. The smith-of-many-talents recounted to Bruce the look on all of the smith's faces when Lucius approached them, a dark-skinned, aging man dressed like a noble, and asked for their entire stock of metal. Lucius laughed as he told them it looked like half the smiths shit themselves on the spot, while the other half had to ask to see the gold before seemingly following suit.
While Lucius had enjoyed making the blacksmiths of the royal city feel foolish, Bruce was on his own mission of sorts. He had trimmed his beard and cut his hair to just above shoulder length to look less of a traveler. He covered his eye with a rag wrapped around his head and dipped lightly in lamb's blood to appear wounded. Dressed in rags, he took to the streets disguised as a beggar to hear the gossip and rumors the poor of the city had to offer. The lessons he learned from the Whisperers from the Jade Mountains were already proving their value.
"If you wish to know the true nature of a city, simply listen to those whom the city does not," Rha's had told him on one of their walks. And oh how they have so much to say, Bruce thought as he limped around the streets of the slums of King's Landing.
Bruce learned that the night before his arrival, the current hand Jon Arryn had grown very ill without any signs of sickness the day before. He found this curious as men rarely traveled from healthy to bed-ridden without some from a normal illness. Bruce had learned from some mystic healers that there were poisons that could make a man die in a few short days with typical signs of illness covering the nefarious act. Bruce did not know enough to say for certain that Arryn had been poisoned though. Whoever wanted him dead, should they exist, Bruce knew would have covered their tracks anyway.
He also learned among his time as a peasant that King Robert and his wife despised each other. The heir to the kingdom, Prince Joffrey, was an "arrogant lil' shit that acts like a boy playing king" as one whore so pleasantly phrased. He also heard that Robert had bastards throughout the city. He also learned more of the other highborn families, Stannis Baratheon bided his time out on the rock he'd been placed on by Robert, the Starks stayed up North as they always have, the Greyjoys withered away on their Iron Islands, and Tywin Lannister sat atop his throne of gold in Casterly Rock just as he'd always done. Perhaps things have not changed as much as I thought they had. Things were definitely more peaceful then when he had left, with the kingdom still under the rule of the Mad King. Lords still lived beyond comfortably, the poor lived off their scraps, and the world continued to spin on.
Bruce was in the middle of listening to a group of whores gossiping about how Joffrey would probably have problems performing in bed with a real woman when they were interrupted by an irritated knight in golden armor with a golden cloak. Ser Jaime Lannister was as golden hued all over as he had heard from the sailors on the ship across the Narrow Sea. The knight had golden locks of hair, shiny golden armor, and a pretty golden cloak to pin it on. He truly did walk like a peacock strutting with its tail feathers in the air. Bruce wondered if Jaime had ever seen one of the birds from the coast of the Jade Sea, and if they would feel closer as kin than Tyrion and him when introduced.
"Whores! Have you seen my little deviant of a brother about? I'm told he disappeared here sometime two days ago and I have need of him at the castle," Jaime Lannister said with such a hint of arrogance in his voice Bruce wondered if it was in fact an adult Joffrey before him.
"No my lord, Clarissa told me he's moved to the Bed of Roses for the night," one of them meekly replied.
Another decided to tempt fate, "You know my lord, I heard a lion is a fantastic mount in bed. If you please, I would very much like a chance to tame one." Some of the other girls giggled but Jaime did not look amused.
"I have no need of loose cunts wench, if my brother chooses to have a bedding competition with the King then he can go right ahead. And you peasant, what are you doing here?" he asked looking to Bruce.
"Oh, oh nothing my lord, just inspecting the ladies and wondering if it'd be worth my earnings for the day to warm my bed tonight," Bruce replied with a Dornish accent.
"It looks like you'll have a bit of difficulty with your inspection," Jaime chuckled pointing to the bloodied rag over Bruce's right eye. He thinks himself so clever, if we met in an abandoned alley you would not walk away with the ability to move that arm "Ser".
Bruce chose to actually retort with, "Oh good one my lord, no this is just from a tavern spat down the path actually. I was the lucky one, the other ser walked away with a broken arm and bashed in jaw," Bruce said with a light smile.
"Well see to it that you don't assault any of the city's men or I'll have your head," the proud lion said before spinning and walking away with the air of a king. Aye my lord, but that fight would give me your pride and not you my head at its close, and I'll put it up on a spear alongside those heads on the wall for the world to see.
Bruce had wondered how Tyrion and Jaime could possibly have come from the same blood. Tyrion was full of wits and strategy, Jaime was nothing but a boy with a sword it seemed. Bruce had an urge to go find the little Imp and speak to him again, to see if Tyrion could see a longer shadow than when they spoke when he was younger. When they had spoken at the Wayne's funeral, Tyrion was even younger than Bruce was when he returned from his travels. Yet Tyrion had still known so much for his age, similar to Daenerys. Bruce wondered if he was as wise as they were when he was younger and wandering the world, somehow he felt he was not. But Bruce could not go and meet the dwarf for a second meeting; he still had a something left to do before meeting Lucius to continue on to Gotham.
Bruce had to send a raven to Gotham, to let Alfred know he was returning home. He feared the raven not making the journey so he had three sent, all carrying the same message. It was something only Alfred would know the meaning of in case the bird was intercepted somehow. It had subtle instructions for his return that he trusted Alfred to tend to, if he remained at all. Will I return to the same loving arms I left? Or an empty castle with cold, abandoned halls? Bruce could feel the knot in his stomach of building worry and anticipation tighten as he and Lucius rode on towards home.
Alfred: Chapter 1
"Fourteen bloody years and he expects me to get a castle ready in a bloody week, what am I one of the damn Seven?" Alfred Pennyworth said aloud to himself as he came down the steps from the raven's keep. The boy has returned a man, silent in the night, and lost in the shadows of the world the note the raven carrying read. He noticed two servants embraced in each other's arms kissing as he rounded the corner, "You two get to cleaning the main dining hall and tell everyone else to get doing their duties or I'll have all your necks on a stick!" The two lovers scattered in fear, Alfred could not help but love the way he could still scare the poor souls after all this time. The castle had become a dust-filled tomb compared to its former self. The dining hall had more cobwebs then chairs at this point and the few servants left within its walls were simply there to help the poor Doornishman from losing the place to the spiders.
The castle had sunk into a darkened abyss since the light of the Waynes had left it so many years ago. Alfred could barely stand living in the place anymore, such a thick shadow had been cast upon the place since Master Bruce's departure. Most of the doors of the place had not been opened in years, only the main corridors and rooms still being dusted and tended to. Nearly three quarters of the massive structure had been taken by sheets placed over the furniture, spiders taking the corners of rooms for themselves, and darkness slowly claiming more and more of the seemingly haunted castle.
The gargoyles stood watch over the grounds from their perches high up on the rooftops, looking down upon the city with fearsome eyes of stone. The shingled roof of black tiles reflected the sunlight quite beautifully during the day, but at night they seemed to absorb any light the moon or stars emitted making the castle seem even more daunting. Almost all of the windows were beautifully tinted glass of either red or yellow or blue, but now they seemed to be so pale. Even the stone bricks of the castle seemed darker to Alfred now, perhaps Bruce would bring a light with him in his return that would illuminate the place to its former glory.
Alfred was stirred from his thoughts of the past as he passed Thomas' study. He hesitantly opened the door, and walked into the abandoned room. There were white sheets everywhere, covering the chairs and tables and towers of books but it was the one in the middle of the room that haunted the Doornishman most. Standing alone in the center of the room the white sheet terrified Alfred to remove it, but he knew he must. It's time to face the light Master Wayne, he thought to himself. He opened the shudders on the windows letting a blinding light into the dark study. He moved to in front of the standing sheet that tormented his soul so. He wrapped his white gloved hands around the sheet before slowly pulling it to the floor. As the sheet fell to the ground, Alfred looked into the white marble eyes of Thomas Wayne.
Your son is returning soon Ser, and soon light may return to this cursed city after so much time in the darkness, much like yourself I hope. Alfred had the bust made shortly after their deaths, Thomas had spent so much time in this room that Alfred saw it only fitting to place the marble head here. The main dining room still had the massive family painting above the fireplace, but Alfred was not ready to remove that sheet just yet.
He shouted at a few more bumbling servants he found standing around before finally reaching his room and closed and locked the door. He finally had a moment to himself to take in all that he felt while reading the bird's message. He was beyond saddened to learn that Master Bruce was returning, knowing that there was nothing for him here but this ancient relic of a home and crime-ridden streets. He knew that the boy lived even after word came that Ser Valley had lost him, he had hoped he'd gone away. Married a breathtaking, foreign beauty and had little Waynes of his own. Alfred could not hope but be overjoyed at the same time though, for he had missed Master Bruce dearly. He had no children, no friends; his life had belonged to the Waynes, and their greatest treasure, young Bruce. Bruce could now be his life again, but he did not want the young lad's life to lie with the fate of Gotham.
He had done what he could to help Gotham in these dire times, but it proved more difficult than expected. The crime rates were worse than those in King's Landing when the Waynes still lived, but with Bruce gone the city continued to plummet into darkness it seemed. More than half the city guard left to fight the Targaryen king more than a decade ago to never return, and those that did took up their families and left for Highgarden to live a quieter life. The city guard was down to a quarter the strength it had when the Waynes were killed, and Alfred had no idea how to fix the situation other than giving Ser Gordon any gold he could spare.
The Waynes' wealth was another area that had declined over the years. As less people had come to invest into the city, the funds from Bruce's inheritance only dropped. Alfred knew the boy was still incredibly rich but he was no longer in the same bed as the Lannisters in terms of gold. Perhaps things will change when he returns, and the people have someone to look up to again.
Bruce's letter however told that he did not want his return to be a grand affair. In the silent of the night, and lost in the shadows of the world, the last line troubled Alfred greatly. Had the young, scared boy he sent out into the world really returned a dark shadow hiding in the night? Alfred would simply have to wait for the young master to return to judge for certain.
He had a growing pit of dread in his stomach as he went about cleaning as much of the castle as possible over the next few days. The other servants had doubtlessly been curious as to why after over a decade the castle needed to suddenly be tended to with such vigor. Alfred knew they suspected the master was returning, but Alfred never dignified any questions of it with responses. They're paid to clean, not question, and paid more handsomely than is deserved the bunch of bloody slackers, Alfred thought as he ordered them their day's work.
Perhaps Bruce was returning with a loving bride-to-be, and simply wanted the marriage to be a surprise to everyone. Or maybe he was building up some sort of dramatic suspense so that his return would be a story for the ages, the phoenix rising from the ashes. Another hope that came to Alfred's mind was maybe the young master would return with a small army of guards and wagons of gold, to help bring peace to the troubled city. He would be fabled a savior to the dark city and would help lift it from the shadows of corruption and crime. Alfred would have preferred any of these hopeful, unrealistic dreams, but somehow he felt he knew the truth. His master would return yes, but a changed man, darkened by the world and years of solitude, and the anger still burning in his soul.