Richard: Chapter 1

The breeze felt good in his hair, as it always did. Dick felt at home towering over the crowds and people that always came to their circus. He nimbly exchanged bars as he continued on his way through the air via the trapeze bars hanging from the roof of the circus tent. He had practiced on these since his fifth name day, and now he was twelve, almost a man fully grown. He had mastered rope dancing, balancing on taught lengths of ropes dozens of feet in the air. He had learned to spin and twirl through the air between the hanging bars. Dick had even taught himself to climb and run through trees like a squirrel, and to fly across the rooftops in his free time whenever they visited cities. He was at home whenever he was not on the ground.

He took another leap and twirled through the air as his hands met the strong hands of his father's and locked eyes before continuing on. His father always smiled with pride after each and every jump his son successfully made. If Dick ever fell in practice, his father would merely say, "Ha Ha! I guess you gotta keep earning those wings son. Don't fret though, I think I can see the bulges on your back where they're gonna sprout!"

His father was a big man, made of as much muscle as one of the King's blacksmiths, but John Grayson had a kind heart. He had strong arms that could throw his son up into the air a few feet even now. Dick's father was loved throughout the seven kingdoms and other travelling circus troupes for being such a warm-hearted man. He had been born into the circus, just as Dick had, and loved every minute of it. While most families had sigils and words that inspired honor or respect, the fluttering robin of the Grayson family inspired love he was told.

"Robins make the best parents Richard, and so we bond ourselves by love and lifting each other up, what are the words of our house son?" his mother Mary would ask whenever Dick grew discouraged after a fall.

"Spread your wings and fly," Dick would always reply with a smile. She would then hug him, and say, "Then go my sweet, spread them and soar!" Then out of nowhere his father would come from behind him and swoop him up in his arms. Dick would laugh endlessly as his father carried him around above his head, and would actually feel like he was flying.

Now his father flung him across the gap to his mother, as they locked hands the crowd roared from below. That was Dick's favorite part of the night, how the crowd grew quiet only to burst forth with loud cheers when the Flying Grayson's locked arms after braving a gap of open air. They used no nets during the main events before the audience; crowds never reacted the same when lives weren't on the line.

"Apparently city folk don't get enough life and death entertainment from the beheadings or wars that are fought. So they enjoy us putting our heads on the line as well!" his father would jest. It was fine though, a Grayson never fell under pressure. They had done this routine near a hundred times over their tour of the seven kingdoms. They had been to Highgarden and Honeyholt, Summerhall and Casterly Rock, and now risked their lives in Goldengrove. But the crowds cheered all the same.

After they had taken their bow and the masses of people left, Dick watched from the treetops as all of the people flooded back to their homes and keeps. He wondered what it would be like to live in the same place for years on end, for a lifetime. He knew he would never experience it though; he was going to live in the circus his whole life just as his father has and his father before him. He watched the trainers take their striped horses back to their cages, the beast tamers take their lions and striped cats back to theirs, and finally the main tent slowly collapsed like a mountain falling in on itself.

"Dick? Are you out here sweetie? We have some great news!" He heard his mother shout from somewhere below.

Then he heard his father's loud, boisterous laugh, "Oh come now Mary, he is a squirrel! Shout to him in the clicks and chittering of a forest creature and offer him some acorns and he'll surely come down!"

Dick climbed swiftly and deftly through the tree limbs down to where he heard his parents' voices originating. He popped his head down through the branches with an ear to ear grin shouting, "Hear I am!"

"Oh get down from there you squirrel of a son, we have something to tell you!" Dick jumped to the ground with a soft thud as his small feet hit the ground in between where his parents stood. "We're going to Gotham! The lord of the city just returned after being gone for a very long time and we're performing at his return celebration!"

James: Chapter 2

"I don't care how many men we're lacking! Find a man with two arms, put him in some armor and give him a damn sword!" Ser James Gordon shouted at two men who had just told him that they were sorely wanting of the manpower they needed. A fact that had not escaped him, but he did not need others reminding him that his one hundred or so guards would not be enough to secure the safety of all of the guests coming to Bruce Wayne's return festival. Been back a few days and he's already causing me grief, ugh, nobles.

The city thought him a messiah, returned to wash away all of the city's problems as if James and his men had done nothing but twiddle their thumbs this last decade. All Bruce Wayne's return meant to him was one thing and one thing only, stress. Within two nights of the Prince of Gotham's return, there have been twice as many murders than there have in the past fortnight combined, and reports of robberies have become an hourly occurrence.

Ugh, what I would not give for some ale and a decent night's sleep. He had slept only an hour since Wayne's return and it did not appear he would be gifted with any more in the coming weeks. A knock at the door forced his eye-lids open, not even realizing they had closed in the first place. His second in command, Harvard Bullock, was standing in the door.

Bullock was a big man, and hot-tempered to be sure, but loyal. His double chin had the scruff of a man who had not shaved in more than a week, and his eyes had sunken bags under them. He never left James's side though, any night James was here his Lieutenant stayed as well. He was one of the few men James actually trusted, with many of his men doubtlessly paid off by either gangs or the other nefarious groups of the city. "What is it Harvey?"

"It's your daughter Ser, she needs to see ya she says"

Gordon waited a moment, wondering if speaking to his daughter with his level of stress and exhaustion was a good idea. "Alright Harv, send her in."

Moments later his eldest child, young Barbara walked in. She was already four-and-ten, but James still remembered her bouncing on his lap as a babe. He was ecstatic when he saw her starting to grow his light orange hair from her bald little head. She was a woman fully grown practically, though James still hated admitting it. She looked lovely in her silver, shimmering dress and matching thin necklace around her throat. He suddenly realized how disheveled he looked, with his white tunic of the city guard wrinkled and stained, even torn in some places. He tried as best he could to straighten it as he stood to greet her, "Barbara, what are you doing down here on a night like this? I told you it is dangerous at night."

His daughter rolled her eyes, "Father, I'm almost five-and-ten, I can handle myself. And I came because I wanted to show you the dress mother bought me for Bruce Wayne's big night! I figured you would want to see what I waste your hard earned gold on." She giggled a bit before coming over to hug him.

"Ugh, Barbara you're going to be the death of me one of these days. Your stubbornness and that monster you call a sense of humor."

His daughter backed up and spun around, the dress swaying below her like a wave on the sea. "Well c'mon, how do I look?"

James hesitated, lost in how beautiful of a woman she had grown into, and the cute little girl he would always remember. "You look…beautiful. Why I bet Bruce Wayne himself will have a hard time taking eyes off you," he said with a laugh.

"Father! I bet Bruce has seen far more beautiful girls in whatever exotic lands he was in before coming back to be stuck in this miserable place!" she replied reddening in her cheeks.

"Not possible. For no matter what bright and beautiful places he went to, there is no young woman more beautiful than my princess stuck in this miserable place," James smiled and ruffled his fingers through his daughter's hair. He knew she hated it when he did that.

"Ser!" James heard Bullock's voice from outside with several footsteps.

"What is it Harv? Can you not see I am with my daughter?"

Harvey rounded the through the doorway, "my apologies Ser but we just got an order from Bruce Wayne's head servant that they want four hundred more city guardsmen trained and ready by the time of the feast!" Bullock said, sweat matting his hair. James wondered how quickly Bullock had run up the stairs to get him sweating this much.

"Well that's all right and fine, but we lack the resources for that, even what Pennyworth's been donating hasn't been enough for more than what he have now." Alfred Pennyworth had always tried to do what he could to help support the City Watch, but it just was not enough.

"That's the thing Ser, he gave us more gold." James had not been expecting that answer to be sure.

"How much we talkin' here Harv?" The overweight man stepped to the side as two guards entered the room, carrying a small chest full of gold dragons within it.

"Oh, that much," Barbara Gordon said at the same time her father thought it. That much is right.