Selina: Chapter 1

The nights were beautiful in this city, despite most people saying otherwise. The city was a ruined mess to be sure, but at night it seemed almost peaceful in some way. At least to her they were; the rich nobles sleeping peacefully in their beds she could care less about. Yes, almost all of the crime in this godforsaken city happened in the dark of the night, but that just made Selina feel more at home. She had been born in Gotham, and would most likely die here.

Gotham lay at the point of the innermost cove where the sea surrounding the Shield Islands kissed the land. It was a city that had been born of fishermen and trading, and still retained those as its highest sources of income. Gotham was a three or four day ride from Highgarden by horseback, and was just out of the way enough to avoid most of the wars that had been waged over the centuries. Instead, Gotham chose to wage war on itself as crime spread like a plague throughout the city.

She knew everything about this city, what alleys to avoid at what hours of the night, where the thieves of the city hid, where the smugglers anchored their ships in the port, and most importantly which nobles would tip a whore most. Selina was one of the best in the city, mostly because of her notorious ability to turn nobles away whenever she cared to and they would still come back to try their luck again. Selina only had to bed two or three men a month to keep up her rather comfortable living arrangements. She had silk sheets, a few lovely dresses, and more gold than most of the other whores in the city, granted that wasn't saying much.

The city was slowly growing poorer, as crime notoriously rose with twice as much speed. Selina would pickpocket a few silver stags here or there, and sometimes snatch a necklace or some gold when she stayed the night with some pompous nobleman, but she hardly thought herself a criminal. She was just a girl doing what she had to to get by, and if she could do that with a little comfort room between getting by and failing she would be able to sleep at night all the same. It's not like the rich ladies will miss a necklace or pocket full of gold all that much, I'm sure their righteous men will make up for it and then some to avoid suspicion. Selina would always smirk when she'd return to the noblemans' estates a few months later only to see an even more valuable necklace in place of the one she had taken.

This night was different however, there was a storm coming and in more ways than one Selina feared. She wasn't walking the streets tonight since she slept with some noble of the Drakes or Cains last week, if she could call it that. The nobleman did what appeared to be seizing on top of her for half an hour before collapsing into a deep sleep. He paid Selina two gold dragons and she tipped herself his lady wife's new gold necklace for her troubles. But this night was darker than the others, she did not know why but she could sense it.

She gazed out her window, as she often did on her quiet nights alone in her room, but she never was truly alone. She felt the soft sensation of fur brush against her leg as her oldest cat, Marken, stepped in between her legs. She lived on the second floor of the famous Lion's Den, the best whorehouse in the city. She was one of the few to have a room to herself, save for the stray cats she would take in from the streets. She had near twenty cats at this point, Marken being her first refugee living with her for almost ten years now. Had it really been that long? Sometimes she would reflect on her life, especially after the youngest girl in the whorehouse, Holly, would ask her about her history as a whore.

"How could I hate the only life I've ever known?" She would always tell the girl, but in truth she did hate it. She hated being a piece of meat to the fat or old nobles of the city, having to please a man to live, not being able to be free and live for herself. She hated the look in their eyes when she stripped nude before them, and the smile on their face after they had bed her.

She did not want this life, but she was born to a fisherman who died at sea when she was four, and a mother who died of illness three years later. What other choice did a girl have? It was either be a servant and be a man's bitch day in and day out, or a whore and only have to suffer through the nights. At least my parents weren't slain right before my eyes, she solemnly thought.

Selina did not know much of the Waynes, she was only five when they were murdered. She had seen the young son Bruce once, but only in passing at the funeral. The look in his eyes had made Selina cry each night for the following week, and she never cried. She wondered how he dealt with the loss, not that it mattered. She had heard from some sailors a few years later that the knight he rode off with had lost him almost immediately after landing across the Narrow. A sad end to a sad life, but life was always sad in Gotham, the city seemed to feed off of it.

James: Chapter 1

"I'm sorry Barbara, but there were two murders tonight, a rape, and the blacksmith said ten swords were stolen from him this morning, I've got too much to deal with tonight," he told his wife regretfully.

"You say that every night Jim, every damn night you have too much to do! Someone was raped, or someone was killed, but what about the children? Young James has no one to look up to and our daughter seems to be growing more distant by the week! I'm tired of letting this city destroy our lives and make our home as dark as that damned castle on top of the hill that has more bats in it than people by now!" She clearly did not see the matter as it looked in James' eyes.

Ever since the Waynes had died and their heir gone, the city had slowly been lost to the darkness crime and corruption brought. He was losing more men each year as they were either killed or sought happier lives in other cities. Can hardly blame them, James thought. This was not the first time Barbara had pushed to move out of the city, and it certainly would not be the last. He could not leave though, that would be giving up on the good he saw in the city. There was still good here, he knew it, he could see it in brief flashes, and that was enough to push him on through the long nights. Through seeing girls raped and left nude on the streets, bloodied corpses of men, women, and children scattered across the city, and through never seeing his children, James Gordon still managed to see good. He could hardly remember how old his daughter was now, he knew his son was still only six, or was he seven now? Damn.

They had moved here close to twenty years ago, when the Waynes were still alive and well, their son barely older than a babe. His wife was content then, she was a woman of the North and far more confrontational and rowdy than most women he had met. She had lovely dark red hair, a pleasant looking face, and a fairly slender figure. They had a daughter six years after arriving, and gave her the name of Barbara as was common in her family. James had never been to the North, he had been a man of the South his whole life. He had been a knight under the Tyrells for a few years in Highgarden, but had moved to Gotham when offered the position of head of the city guard. He had just celebrated his seven-and-twentith name day before moving to the city and was a renowned swordsman in his prime. The Fiery Blade they had called him in his youth, Lord Tyrell had once said his red hair danced like fire atop his head because of how quickly the knight moved. He was happy then, James knew it, but could hardly remember such a time.

Everything changed when he was told that one fateful night of the bodies found outside a playhouse, and the boy too scared to leave their side. He remembered the scene like it were only last night, with the boy huddled over the bodies barely making a sound. How intently the boy looked into his eyes, as if he hoped that somehow James could bring them back to life. It had wrenched James' heart for weeks, months maybe. He looked into that boy's eyes and could only imagine what his daughter's would look like gazing back up at him. As if it were him on the ground and her feeling alone in this world. For the first few nights after, he closed his eyes only to see the young Bruce's eyes looking back.

"We can't keep doing this James, it will just drag us down with this city…" Barbara said coldly.

"This city doesn't go anywhere as long as I am here. I will not give up and run! I will not let this city fall!" he returned, shouting towards the end. He hated arguing with her, while most men and their ladies would hide their issues, Barbara was not afraid of a fight. She would let James know whenever she was unhappy even if she was only a woman. James would sometimes laugh to himself about that, how his wife was more of a man than most of those serving on his city guard.

"Fine! Choose this city over your own family!" she shouted, storming out of his makeshift sleeping chambers above the guard's main keep. He had it set up two years after the Waynes' murders so he could stop sleeping in the chair at his desk. The bed was older, and the sheets dirty, but it was warm. Warmer than his real bed to be sure, and warmth was important as summer came to its end. Winter is coming James smirked to himself, how right the Starks always seem to be.

He was roused from his sleep a few hours later by a guard gasping for breath. "Ser…ugh…Captain, there's…" he tried to mutter in between breaths.

"Calm down son, what is it?" he replied curious as to who had been killed this time.

"It was just a rumor I heard from some servants from the castle Ser but it seems to be real now. Bruce Wayne is returning to Gotham."