James: Chapter 18
The stones of the city were a dark shade of orange as the sun kissed the hills wrapping around the Northern side of Gotham. The shadows grew longer with each passing street as the city slowly prepared for night to fall. The sounds of their horses' hooves against the stone echoed down the streets telling all criminals to be weary of their coming.
Lord Eddard had wished to see Arkham Asylum, and so James and eight of his men accompanied him as they crossed the city to Gotham Bay. With Joker still on the loose James found himself thinking he should have brought three times as many guards as he did, but their ride went uninterrupted.
Three men took up the front, James and Eddard at the center of the small procession, a man to each side of them, and the other three to the rear. They rode in silence, each of them looking up and down the streets, taking in their surroundings and judging how the city fared. James wondered what a person new to the city would think. How the sun lit the stone, reflected off of the glass, it almost made the city seem serene.
James remembered that was his first thought upon entering the city's walls for the first time. Seeing how beautiful the city was by day was enough to make him doubt the stories he had heard of how monstrous it was by night. The hardest lesson to be learned in this city, its true nature.
Lord Eddard's horse came to a stop for a moment as Arkham Castle, Asylum, James corrected, came into sight. On a round island out in the bay, the fortress stood tall and pierced into the sky. It had a thick wall along its perimeter with only a single bridge stretching out to it from the mainland. Tall, pointed spires reached up with black, shingled roofs and long needle tops. Arches shaped like spider webs supported and connected the walls and turrets. It looked more dark and foreboding than even Wayne Castle. The city wall loomed in the background. This section of the bay was the only one where the wall curved out into saltwater while the rest of the ports and beach had been left beyond its stone defenses.
As they continued on down the hill, the buildings lining the street lessened, then dwindled, until only abandoned shacks and decimated steads remained. This was the eastern most end of the Narrows, a place even the criminals and scum of Gotham rarely dare set foot. Rumors of the spirits that haunted their horrid destination were enough to make even the most blood thirsting of murderers flee. The only souls that remained in this desolate corner of the city were the poorest beggars to be found. They found shelter amidst the broken, crumbling structures surrounding the entrance to Arkham. High up on the opposite hill stood the former Alchemist's Guildhall, another catacomb for nothing but spirits and beggars.
They reined their horses and turned to face the ghastly castle. Eight Lannister guards clad in their crimson armor stood with lances upright, guarded the wrought iron gates to the bridge. Two appeared to be leaning on their spears, tired from hours of standing. Upon hearing the hoof beats they righted themselves and stood at attention. Lord Stark spoke, "Let us pass."
He was replied with the fools running to either side of the gate, pulling it open for them. Their party proceeded down the narrow bridge, only wide enough for four riders abreast. As they neared the castle's high walls a second pair of thick, wrought iron doors slowly swung back, allowing them entry. As they entered beneath the entranceway, James gazed upwards to see the grated iron blocks of death doors lining the roof of the passage. As they dismounted, the dark oak doors of the castle opened and a single man stepped out to approach them.
Hugo Strange looked oddly the exact same as he had the last time James had laid eyes on him. His beard was still the same length, neatly cut and shaved so none of the grey hair clung to his upper lip. His gait was the same slow, cautious step it had been previously. His eyes darted around erratically, encompassing their little group before pausing on Lord Eddard. Hugo allowed his stare to rest on the Lord Hand for a few moments before he looked away and met eyes with James.
"Ah Ser Gordon, I had not been expecting you. Welcome, welcome to the newly spawned Arkham Asylum. And the noble Lord Eddard Stark, what a welcomed sight you are, my lord. You are here to see my progress and what plans I have for this castle are you not?" He reproached with a wide smile.
Lord Eddard stepped forward. "Yes, to put the matter bluntly. Do you hold any quarrels with that, ser?"
Hugo's smile grew even wider, "None at all my lord. Come, allow me to show you what I have been laboring so tirelessly over."
The man turned and led James and his party through the doorway and into the castle. James' nose was immediately greeted with the smell of dust and smoke. The halls were lit with wall mounted torches in the shapes of screaming faces and dragon heads. As they proceeded down the corridor, the sound of hammers against steel echoed louder with each step. Hugo turned and led them into a large hall.
Banners with golden lions and stags lined the walls of the hall as men scurried around beneath them wearing either crimson armor or no dressings upon their chest at all. Broad chested smiths slaved over fires and anvils, hammering out swords, spearheads or iron bars. Lannister soldiers sparred along the hall or supped at one of the long wooden tables at its southernmost end. Women scurried about the long room in serving wools and dressings carrying water or food to the tables and men.
"What is all of this?" James asked their host.
Without turning to face them Hugo stared out at his work and raised his hands into the air. "A new age, Ser Gordon. No longer will criminals end with a noose around their neck or an axe through it. Here they will be given sanctuary. A place for us to observe why these men choose evil over good, and whether such men can be saved at all. Needlessly killing such men is not the answer, we must see why they do what they do. That, is the only way to end this cycle and save the kingdom from itself."
He sounds half mad. "And how are we to be sure that this will yield anything of value? What makes you so unwavering in your skills that you can accomplish this mountain you lay before yourself? How will you control so many criminals?" Eddard asked.
Hugo continued on through the hall, not waiting for them to keep pace as he shouted out behind him. "What I am lacking in power or wealth I surely make up for in strength of mind my lord. My lord, Tywin Lannister, provides the gold needed, and has even sent another century of men to assist in providing protection. However, we will not be taking any plain criminal off the streets. Only the most ambiguous, the worst of the lot, the cruelest rapers, cleverest thieves, maddest killers, all of them will find a home here. Within the walls of my Asylum they will find refuge as we study them like a predator does its prey. In order to save your city, Ser Gordon, we must truly understand the enemy."
"And would this enemy be the man that killed two of my men this week past? Or the Batman, I wonder?" James replied in a short tempered shout.
To this Hugo finally turned as they reached the opposite end of the hall. "No, no Ser, you misunderstand me. Batman is as similar to the criminals that will be housed here as this joyous summer is to the inevitable winter. He is a man of a different breed Ser, and he is whom I look forward to observing most." Hugo turned and lead them leftward out of the hall.
"What pushes a man to do what the Batman does? What sparks the fire in his soul to make him dedicate his life to such a crusade? Masking his face, striking out in the night, it is all so, unheard of," Hugo continued as they took another turn.
This place seems more a maze than a castle. "The way you speak of him, the Batman, it sounds more akin to admiration than persecution. Are you truly your lord's man, I wonder?" Lord Stark taunted.
Hugo chuckled, "Yes Lord Stark. I serve my lord most faithfully, but even one's enemies must be held with respect and recognition when deserved. Batman is such a rare sight in this world, someone so selfless in a world of greed and selfishness. Even a man as clever as the Joker must be held with a certain mind of respect, as it is with all dangerous men."
James' eyes widened in anger as he charged Strange, grabbed him by the shoulder and forcefully turned him round to face him. "The Joker is not a man, he is a monster."
Hugo merely replied with a thin lipped smile, "Even monsters such as dragons and krakens deserve respect, Ser. A monster in a man's skin is no different."
He held a hand out to his right, gesturing to the row of cells following down the remainder of the corridor. "This is merely one of our many halls suited for our prisoners. We will have guards posted at each end, with meals twice a day. Women I have chosen myself will aid me in counseling the prisoners to judge how mad or sane they are and whether there is any spark of good left in their souls. Ah, wonderful timing."
A woman rounded the corner hurriedly as she took notice of the group and joined. She was young, no more than twenty James figured, and had a slender figure. She had a comely face with large teal eyes and a wide grin on her face. Her head was covered in bright blonde hair that appeared almost golden, even in the dimly-lit corridor. She was wearing a simple white maiden dress with delicate white gloves and cotton leggings.
"Why women?" James asked.
Hugo chuckled lightly, "Would you care to answer that Harleen?"
She smiled and nodded, "A woman's touch is more delicate than that of a brutish man's."
Hugo chuckled once more, "Very good my dear, you may continue on to your duties."
She nodded and continued off down the hall.
"Well my lord, is there anything else troubling your mind or has what you've seen proven acceptable?" Hugo asked.
Lord Eddard nodded, "I've seen enough, for now. Should I have any further issues I will return."
Hugo bowed, "You are always welcome, my lord."
He led them out and bowed once more before returning back to within his melancholy stronghold. James and his men mounted and rode back across the bridge up into Gotham. After a few minutes of riding up the hill and watching the streets and buildings grow more lively and populated, Eddard leaned in to James and spoke.
"Whatever his intentions are, so long as he remains under that lion banner he cannot be trusted."
James smirked, "I am far ahead of you my lord."
Bruce: Chapter 21
"So they only wish to keep the interesting criminals?"
Ned nodded, "Yes, Strange sounded very particular in his taste for deviants. What he intends to do with them, he merely said that he would study them. He seemed keenly interested in you."
Bruce thinly smiled, "So I've been told." Bruce had known that Hugo Strange had his eyes set on the Batman in particular, but with him bringing more Lannister soldiers and armaments to Arkham Castle, Bruce was growing more worried.
He thought a moment before continuing. "Are they well-fortified?"
"They have about a century of Lannister men, at least another in sell swords, only one bridge for entry and departure protected by an iron bar gate. The entrance from the bridge to the castle however is far more treacherous. Murder holes, large iron doors, thick portcullis, a great deal of length on the battlements for archers. Should Hugo decide to act upon any ill intent he may be hiding, he will do so from a rather secure place."
"Should Hugo act, I will stop him."
Ned shook his head in frustration. "Oh come now Bruce, you should be beyond this arrogance. You alone cannot take that fortress, even if you make it inside. He surely has more men coming, you'll need help. Ser Gordon was telling me of his plight on our ride back from the gloomy place. He tells me his Watch is only six centuries strong, a fact that makes his duty difficult, even more so than it needs to be. He needs more men Bruce, he needs more gold. King's Landing has a City Watch of six thousand men, and the crime rate there is two thirds what it is here at best, closer to half I imagine. Gordon has but a tenth of that number."
Bruce stood, and went back to the wooden sparring dummy standing ten paces away. Ned had interrupted his training when he had returned from his day with Gordon. Bruce's chest, back and brow were coated in sweat by the time the wintery lord arrived and walked down the carved stone pathway to the cave floor. His gait was urgent so Bruce thought it best to stop to hear what his guest had to say. Now that he had heard enough, Bruce decided it was best to continue training. Ned clearly took note of what Bruce was doing and moved to stand beside the wooden torso and head. It had arms nailed on at angles as if it were trying to give its assaulter a hug.
"I know he does, but what else can I do? Throw more gold at him so he can afford to take on more men?" Bruce asked in between successions of rapid blows to the large doll's head and chest. Fractured skull, three broken ribs on the right, two to the left, splintered elbow, dislocated jaw, shattered nose, he repeated in his mind with each blow from his fists or elbows.
Ned took a pause between volleys to step in between Bruce and his target. "Yes. If you will not share your knowledge with him and his men, the least you can do is help him to find more. If you will not fulfill your lordly duties as Bruce Wayne to the city, then the very least you can do is give gold so that the City Watch is better equipped to help keep the smallfolk safe. That's the problem with not fulfilling your lordly duties Bruce, you miss the true plight of the people."
Bruce's hands tensed into fists as he growled, "Do not tell me I miss what ails my people. That is why I became Batman, to help them! To avenge my parent's spirits! To save the soul of my city and those whom live in it. Be cautious with your words my friend."
Ned smirked, "Is that a threat, boy?"
Bruce smiled angrily in return, "No, my lord, merely a cautious yarn of advice. I am well aware the struggles my city has suffered through with no end in sight. Batman will bring about an end to it."
The daunting man before him snorted in either amusement or disapproval. Knowing Ned, both. "Your arrogance, boy, it will be the end of you. You are not enough! Whatever planning you have in your skull will not be enough to save this city from itself. You need help! More than two old men and a boy can give you. You need the strength of the city at your back to help you. You left them to suffer to their own ends for fourteen years Bruce. Did you think you would return and bring this city back up by yourself? If you did, then I will name you a fool until the day this war of yours puts you in an early grave. You left them with a defense of city guardsmen that dwindled from four thousand to numbers in the hundreds, any lords that remained loyal your father abandoned you, and your city moved on.
Bruce, there is a war on the horizon. I can feel it in my bones. And if I fail in holding this war off, your city will be reduced to a smoldering ash under Lord Tywin's armies. For the offenses to his honor you and that mad clown gave him, he'll send that mad dog of his Clegane to your front door. The Mountain and his men will rape your women, burn your ships, and upturn every last stone in this city until they find where the Joker hides, and you as well. You need to grow up Bruce, and start thinking like more than just a man, but a lord. With no forces, how can you hope to save this city should Tywin or another lord decide to attack?"
Bruce's lips tensed, his arms flexed. Ned's words, as true as they were, wounded Bruce and his pride deeply. Ned smirked, "Do you have swords in this dark, dusty place?"
Bruce smiled as he understood Ned's meaning and turned. He paced over to Lucius' corner of the cave and pulled out two dulled sparring swords from a barrel. As he returned to where Ned stood he tossed a blade, to which the Lord Hand caught it and began spinning it at his wrist like a master. "When I was younger, still had fire in my blood and clouds in my head, I always found sparring a good way to release my boiling blood. So come Bruce, let us see if you're as good with a sword as you are with your fists."
Bruce said nothing, but gave the Lord of Winterfell his wish and came at him with a horizontal slash. Ned chuckled and deflected the blow with a speed that should have been absent in his aging years. They crossed blows back and forth for a few minutes as Bruce made each passing blow harder and quicker. Ned did not falter however, and managed to keep Bruce's pace until his back was at the edge of the stone island they were standing on. Ned's heel hit the edge as he heard the pebbles drop and fall into the water a few feet below. The water was only a foot or so deep, but Ned had no intentions of falling in and letting his young foe make a fool of him.
As Bruce lunged forward, Ned stepped to the side with an impressive amount of speed and laid a gloved hand on Bruce's sword. He jerked it forward and swung his blade down behind Bruce's legs as he was caught off balance. Bruce tripped and stumbled into the pool of water before him. As his head came back up for air, Ned chuckled, "I wager that's the first bath you've had in a week." Rather than offering his fallen adversary a hand, he turned and moved to sit at the table on an adjoining stone island. He poured himself a glass of wine and waited for a soaked Bruce to follow him to the table.
Bruce sat down opposite him and took a second glass of wine that Ned offered. "I'm afraid I haven't been wholly honest with you Ned."
Ned's brow piqued, "Oh?"
Bruce took a long swig before continuing. "The last time I fought a man with a sword was nearly four years ago. My former mentor, we fought outside of his palace."
"And did you win?"
Bruce swallowed, "I killed him, and a majority of his men. I burned them with wildfire, him with my sword through his chest."
Ned's eyes widened, "So you have killed before. Well I suppose that should be considered you winning. Why kill him?"
"His name was Rha's Al Ghul, and he was the leader of the League of Shadows." Bruce spent the next half hour detailing his years under the tutelage of the late Al Ghul, his attempted murder of Danerys Targaryen, and his inevitable discovery of his mentor's treachery and ultimate end. Bruce also spoke of his lost love, Talia, and how they grew closer than any person Bruce had ever come in contact with. When he had finished, Ned had exhausted the bottle of wine, and stared intently at the floor between his feet.
"So if you had not killed this Rha's Al Ghul, he would have brought Westoros to its knees. Along with ending the Targaryen girl's life, and the gods know what else. This League of Shadows, there are brothers everywhere you say? Even King's Landing? Winterfell?"
Bruce nodded, "Even here, although I cannot speak for Winterfell. He was preparing for something, I know not what. Talia though…she leads them now. Her hatred for me I'm sure has boiled over the years. They are still out there, poised to strike whenever ready."
Ned brought his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "First the Lannisters, Robert, then my son, the Targaryen girl, and now this. Perhaps I was as arrogant as you were, thinking I could find a way to save the kingdom from all that stood ready to tear it apart. How foolish I have been."
Richard: Chapter 15
"Race you!"
"Oh that's cheating!" Arya Stark called out behind Dick as he sprinted ahead of her. As Alfred opened the front doors of the castle Dick leapt from the entranceway to the cobblestone path, skipping the five stuttered steps.
Dick turned his head and shouted out over his shoulder, "Well then you'd best learn to run faster since I didn't play fair!"
He reached the open carriage, placed his hands on the top of its railing, and hurdled over it and onto its red leather seat. Arya caught up after a few moments but used the door to gain entrance and sat down opposite him with a frown. "You cheated."
Dick only replied with a wide grin. He turned his gaze to the castle's doors as Sansa and Lord Stark left the entranceway followed by a limping Bruce Wayne. Eddard offered his hand to help his daughter into the carriage, her dress swaying behind her. It was another summer dress, this one was a light gray with golden inlay. The Lord Hand wore a silver doublet with his sigil on its right breast, clean pressed breeches, and a belt and sword at his waist. Bruce was wearing his standard black doublet with his golden bat, a dark oak cane clenched in his hand. When they were all seated the carriage lurched forward as the horses began their descent down the hill to Gotham.
"The last time Dick and I went on a ride such as this, we brought back a crippled bird for Alfred to treat. Hopefully this time we don't find any wounded animals or soon our castle will have more beast occupants than men!" Bruce jested with a chuckle. Sansa and Arya both looked downward with a sorrowful expression on their faces. Arya had told Dick much about her dire wolf Nymeria and what had transpired at the inn along the Kingsroad where she had to chase her off and how Sansa's direwolf was killed in her place. Arya told Dick that Sansa hated her for that, but was glad that Nymeria was not punished for merely protecting her. Dick knew nothing about Prince Joffrey, but he sounded far from pleasant from Arya's description. How can Sansa love a person like him? Dick didn't understand girls, and probably never would he figured.
In turn, Dick had told Arya many of his tales from his years in Haley's Circus. Of the fire breathers, the zorses and lions, the jugglers and pole walkers, even his parents and their rope dancing. It made him realize how much he missed it all. No, Richard Grayson of the Flying Graysons is gone from his world, only Robin remains.
Bruce quickly changed topics as he turned to Arya. "So Arya, your lordfather tells me you're taking dancing lessons?"
Arya politely smiled and nodded. "Yes my lord, they are most helpful."
For the rest of their ride Bruce recollected stories of his own parents dancing lessons that Alfred had told him. Ned told him a story of his father and him going on a hunting trip in their youth and how the sight of blood made a young Thomas grow dizzy and sick to his stomach. "Ha! That was my friend Thomas, hated to see anything die let alone so much as leak a drop of blood," Ned finished.
They had reached the edge of the main city square in the heart of the city as Ned and Bruce's chuckling died out. The square was alive with the bustling of smallfolk hurrying from one group or shop to the next. The smell of freshly baked bread, blooming flowers from the florist, spices and herbs from the street merchants returned from the east, it all flooded Dick's nose. They all dismounted from the carriage and grouped together as Bruce spoke. "So what would you care to see first my ladies? The baker's right over there? Or perhaps we can see what exotic rarities the traders have brought off of their ships?"
Before the girls could reply a crossbow bolt caught Bruce in the center of his shoulder with enough force to make him fly back a few steps and land to the ground with a loud thud. Before Lord Eddard could draw his sword they were upon them. There were eight of them, two with crossbows and the rest with swords and daggers in hand. The most frightening aspect of their attackers however, was their white painted faces with smeared crimson lips. Joker.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you m'lord," one of the scrawnier ones with the crossbow taunted as he saw Ned's hand reach for his sword. Lord Eddard grunted and let his hand fall to his side. The thin man smiled in gratitude, showing off his broken teeth. He had a thin nose to match his body, with a shock of dirty brown hair on his scalp. He gestured to the two largest thugs with a shrug of his head.
The two that moved were each taller than even Bruce. One had a scar across his forehead that even the paint could not hide. They stepped in between the Lord Hand and his daughters and each grabbed Arya roughly by the shoulders. Ned stepped forward before a crossbow bolt went flying into the carriage only a foot to his right. Dick tensed and leaned forward. The scrawny man took note of this and laughed, "I'd stay where you are lad. No heroes will be made here."
By this point the crowd had noticed and were screaming and running in opposite directions. Even the mention of the Joker's name was enough to make men's' spines melt. Seeing some of his men would warrant no less of a reaction than fleeing in the people of Gotham. No City Watchmen appeared to be present in the square, but they would be here within a minute or two at the most with this much chaos. The bony man seemed aware of this fact.
"Let's get on with it. Move!" Before they could follow orders however, Arya kicked a man in the groin before biting her teeth violently into one of her assaulters. They both cried out in agony as she wriggled to get free. The gaunt leader hit her in the back of the head with the butt of his crossbow making her fall limp. Ned took another step forward with a look of death in his eyes before the man drew his crossbow back up making him freeze his advance. They withdrew back into the alley from which they came. The two crossbowmen kept their sights on Ned for a few moments longer as the rest ducked behind the corner and out of sight. As they lifted their weapons and ran, Ned drew his sword and charged after them. He reached the end of the alley and looked around in disbelief. After a moment of hesitation he continued on down the alley that the thugs used to escape. No, not her, this can't be happening. He turned and saw Sansa frozen in terror, tears streaming down her face. Then, Dick turned down to look on the injured Bruce.
The man's eyes were glaring down the alley the thugs and Ned had just run down. His arm was propping his body up. His face was unmoving, a frigid wall of unemotional ice. His lip was taught into a thin line of pain as his other hand was pulling the bolt from his shoulder. As he wrenched it free, he grunted in pain and tossed it to the ground. He looked up to Dick with a look he had never seen in Bruce's eyes. Those are not the eyes of Bruce Wayne, those are the eyes of Batman.