Harvey: Chapter 6
It pained Harvey to leave Gotham with only seeing his friend once, but he could not say he would miss the city itself. They had supper one night, when both their nights were free on the same night. It was at the castle. Bruce's young ward was absent, and Alfred only came and went.
"Bruce, it has been too long," Harvey remarked as they passed through the oak doors into Thomas Wayne's former study. Bruce had desired a more private supper, and so he chose the study over either of the spacious feasting halls in the castle.
"Over a decade if I'm not mistaken," Bruce sighed as he seated himself at the small table prepared with bowls and plates.
"Yes, how are you, old friend?" Harvey asked.
Bruce sighed again, "I have head aches day in and out. Lord Tywin's assault on Gotham, trying to reignite the economy of the city, not to mention the masked vigilante running around my city and the mess of nefarious criminals he hunts."
"Hunts? So you agree that Batman is pursuing the criminals and not simply a menace to Gotham?"
Alfred entered and set their dinners upon their plates. Roasted ham with potatoes and carrots. Even from his childhood Harvey remembered what a remarkable cook Alfred had been.
Bruce waved a hand, "Batman hunts the criminals, the criminals hunt him. Penguin, Edward Nigma, Catwoman, Joker, they're all menaces. Has Batman hurt any of the smallfolk? No. Does that mean he never will? Who's to say. A man that runs around about rooftops dressed as a bad plainly is touched by madness."
"I suppose that is true," Harvey admitted. He had met Batman only thrice since being in Gotham, and as the masked man never said much, Harvey could not tell what sort of man he was. But deep inside, Harvey believed Batman fought for good.
"Let us not worry about Batman. I have heard you were married? And Officer of the Crown, you have clearly made quite a name for yourself. It warms the heart to see the city had not corrupted at least one soul of the many that call it home," Bruce continued with a smile.
"Yes, my wife fares well. We hope to have a child soon, but now with all that has happened, and will happen…Now may not be the best time. So tell me Bruce, what did you do for your many years away from Gotham?"
The rest of the night they discussed Harvey's life, news of the capital, mostly fond memories from their childhood, but whenever Harvey pressed questions about Bruce's absence, his friend always dismissed them with, "It was a dark time in my life Harvey, let us not give the matter any thought and leave it in the past."
I'm sorry old friend. I'm sorry that your life took such dark and twisted turns.
With news of Eddard Stark's imprisonment and the King's death, Harvey new he must return to King's Landing. His wife gave him a warm welcome, but little else about the city was warm. The city was paused, as Joffrey took his father's throne, and Northerners pressed further south with each passing day.
When Harvey returned, he was brought before King Joffrey in a display of power. Guards arrived at his door, and ordered him to follow. Once in the throne room, Harvey could see how drastically everything had changed. A dark, somber air had settled over the hall. Everyone that stood by and watched did so with a slight grip of terror, as if the King would lash out at them without notice and strike them down. As Harvey was led up the long path to the Iron Throne, he could feel those sitting above the rest staring down at him.
Joffrey sat anxiously but with a smug grin, fearing to relax as he would surely be pricked by one of the many pointed edges. He wore the golden crown made of intertwining antlers that his father wore before him. His mother, the Queen, sat to his right. To his left, Littlefinger stood, sitting with a pleased smile. A monster in each ear, if this is to be the counsel Joffrey receives I fear for the future of the entire kingdom.
Further behind him, the Hound stood, with his expressionless face staring out at the crowd as if he were like to be struck dead by boredom. Varys stood to the right, ever silently gazing about the hall. The old, weak Grandmaester Pycelle stood to his left. Standing at the foot of the steps ascending to the Iron Throne, stood the Kingsguard. All of them in polished golden armor with their long white capes reaching down behind them to the floor.
"Your Grace," Harvey stated with a bow. He knew the easiest way to appease the young king would be to feed his unrestrained ego.
"Officer Dent, it is reliving to see you back to our city safely after spending such time with the monsters and animals of Gotham. Tell me, did the clown that ailed my grandfather get his head removed yet?" Joffrey stated to the hall with a loud, clearly pleased voice.
Harvey stood and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Your Grace. The criminal known as the Joker remains at large."
Joffrey scoffed. "That old fool Ser Gordon is far too past his prime to capture even the simplest of criminals. And the Batman? Does he remain free as well?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Fools, the whole lot of them. People that raise up a masked criminal as a hero. It would be easiest to burn the city to the ground and start over," Joffrey jested. After a few moments of silence, Joffrey stared angrily out to the crowd, which incited them to begin laughing at his jape.
The Queen leaned in to her sons ear and whispered something. The King's smile faded, and was replaced with an irritated frown. "But no matter," the king continued. "Officer Harvey Dent. You are an Officer of the King, are you not?"
"Yes, Your Grace." I fear I know where this is heading.
"Then, before all of these witnesses, bow, and swear loyalty to me, your new king. That you will serve me with even greater loyalty and dedication to my father, and will set to any task asked of you," Joffrey commanded. The boy knew he had the power here, and should Harvey decline, he feared for what may happen to him and his wife.
Harvey bowed, swallowing his pride, knowing he would be assuring his wife's safety. "I swear it, Your Grace."
"Joyous, now, come, stand beside the Small Council."
Harvey bowed once more, and moved to take his place beside Pycelle and Varys.
"Now, Maester Pycelle, I believe you have something to say," Joffrey addressed with the wave of a hand.
The old man slowly crept to the front of the raised stone floor. He withdrew a scroll from his sleeve and began to read, "Yes, Your Grace," the ancient soul breathed with a raspy voice. "It also the wish of his Grace, this his loyal servant, Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch, be at once raised to the rank of Lord. And be granted the eighth seat of Harrenhal. And that his sons and grandsons shall hold this honor after him, until the end of time."
As Janos Slynt stepped forward to where Harvey stood but moments before, the crowd hushed over with silence. In the far right corner of the room, Sansa Stark was descending the steps to join the proceedings. Harvey could see people snickering and whispering to each other as the girl passed. Poor, poor girl. May fate show you a kinder turn soon.
Janos bowed, and moved to the left.
The old Grandmaester coughed, and continued, "In the place of the traitor, Eddard Stark, it is the wish of His Grace, that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, be appointed Hand of the King. Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the Council that the life and safety of King Joffrey, be of paramount importance."
Why Queen Cersei, I did not know you could make your words come through such an old puppet with such ease. Why, they almost sound as if they were his own.
The Queen then stood, smiled, and addressed, "Ser Barristan Selmy."
Barristan Selmy, said to be the greated swordsman in any kingdom, stepped forward and quickly turned on his heel to face the throne. Barristan the Bold bowed and fell to one knee, "Your Grace, I am yours to command."
"Rise Ser Barristan," the Queen continued, ignoring the knight's addressing to the king and not her. "You may remove your helm."
The knight took off his golden helmet, revealing his aged face and snow white hair.
"You have served the realm faithfully, every man in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. But it is time to set aside your armor and your sword. It is time to rest, and look back with pride on your many years of service."
The crowd burst forth with whispers and mummerings at the statement. Barristan's eyes widened. "Your Grace, the Kingsguard is a sacred brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death, relieves us of our sacred trust."
"Whose death, Ser Barristan? Your death, or your king's?"
Now Joffrey chimed in from his seat upon the throne. "You let my father die. You're too old to protect anyone," the king stated with seething mockery.
"Your Grace-" Barristan attempted to reply, but the Queen interrupted. "The Council has determined that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
Barristan's eyes narrowed. "A man who profaned his blade in the blood of the king he had sworn to defend."
The Queen immediately retorted with silent anger, "Careful Ser…"
Tread lightly Ser Barristan, you wouldn't want to upset Jaime's lover.
Varys took a step forward, his hands clasped beneath his long sleeves. "We have nothing but gratitude for your long service, good ser. You shall be given a stout keep beside the sea, with servants to look after your every need."
Barristan's silent anger rose to the breaking point now, as he growled back, "A hall to die in, and men to bury me."
Before the King, the Small Council, and everyone in attendance, Barristan began dislodging his white cloak. "I am a knight," he affirmed as he tore the last buckle, letting the cloak fall to the ground. "I am a knight, I shall die, a knight."
The old man threw his helmet to the ground.
Lord Baelish chimed, "A naked knight, apparently." The crowd burst with quiet laughter. Harvey could only but feel for the man. So many years dedicated to protecting his king. Such honed skill and honor, all being thrown away and dragged through the mud by an arrogant boy turned king. Barristan gazed around at all those laughing at him, and he drew his sword.
The remaining five Kingsguard all drew theirs in return. As Barristan stood with his sword pointed at his former brothers, he scoffed, "Even now I could cut through the five of you like carving a cake!" After a few moments of silence, Barristan threw his sword to the ground beside his cape and helmet. "Here boy, melt it down and add it to the others."
Barristan promptly turned, and strode out of the hall, a disgraced knight with more honor than any man present in the hall.
A minute after the knight left the hall, and the whispering from the crowd died down, Joffrey stood and roared in anger. "He called me BOY! Find him and bring him to me! NOW!"
Barristan was never captured or arrested, and in fact, seemed to disappear from King's Landing as if he were a ghost.
What felt but a day later, but in truth was quite longer, the day of Eddard Stark's trial before a massive crowd of smallfolk arrived. Harvey could not decide if he could bring himself to go, or simply stay at home with his wife.
His father's coin stared back at him from the table before him. Face up, I go, face down, I stay.
As Harvey flipped the coin, he felt he knew what side the coin would land on. The night, when news of Lord Stark's death reached him, he felt a breath of relief that he had not been present for it. And now, the end of all that we knew has arrived
Bruce: Chapter 31
His mind slowly regained itself. His vision sharpened, the blurry fog faded. There was a light now, there had not been one before. Slowly, Bruce realized he was no longer in a cell. There was wood beneath his feet, and the chair in which he was chained to. The wood creaked, and had a slow rocking motion.
Ship, I'm at sea. Bruce looked around. He was in the cabin of the ship. There was a single candle on the desk in front of him. The shudders of the large window were closed, preventing him from seeing any farther. No papers were on the desk, nothing was in the room but Bruce, the desk, and the candle. The only area he couldn't see was directly behind him, but he doubted that quarter of the wall hid any secrets to escape.
He felt the heaviness of metal upon his flesh. Looking down, he realized he was donned in the armor of Batman, save for the helm. They've gone to extreme lengths to give me no weapon, yet they dress me in my armor? Bruce pulled on the chains, but they were triple bound around each limb. Given a day he would have been able to escape, but as the door opened, he knew he wouldn't have a day.
Lord Varys entered, his lavender scent never falling far behind. He had brought another chair, and sat it beside the desk in front of Bruce. Now they sat, beside the desk, staring at each other.
"My lord, I hope you aren't too angry with my actions. You understand of course?" The eunuch politely asked.
Bruce's face was directed at the floor, but his eyes glared up at his bald captor. "That you poisoned me? Kept my mind afloat so you could house me in the black cells for however long. Where is Ned Stark?"
"Dead, I'm afraid. He was meant to live, and be exiled to the Wall, but King Joffrey had other plans it would seem," Varys murmured. He appeared almost, sad.
Bruce's eyes lit up with rage. "Joffrey killed Ned. Why would you kill him?" He growled with a voice that would frighten an Other.
"You misunderstand, my lord, it was not by our hand that Lord Stark was killed. Even the Queen wished Lord Stark to live. She knew that his death would only burn more blood in the North to spurn their rebellion on. Joffrey acted of his own accord, the foolish little shit that he is."
The last line sounded out of character for what Bruce had heard of Varys, but the man was enveloped in lies. He could very easily be hiding any number of things. "But you stood to the side and did nothing. You let him die, all of you, without raising a finger."
Varys remained still, his gaze a mix of curiosity and attentiveness. "Yes, as I would again. I am not like you, my lord, or Lord Stark, or even King Robert. I am no warrior. I have no physical prowess, I have no skills in combat, I have only the ability to survive. It's what has kept me alive in the capital for all this time."
"That and your allies," Bruce quickly remarked.
"Yes, the League has helped me from time to time. But I was never trained as an assassin. They used me as a means of connecting and information gathering. I traveled across Essos. Every city I passed, I would spread the word of our lord, Rha's Al Ghul, and gain insight into how that branch of our brotherhood fared. I would learn of targets that needed to be dealt with, tracked movements of others, recruited more than a few. I helped spread the League's influence across the land, and now aid it in this one," Varys finished as he reached into sleeve.
He withdrew with a small piece of parchment. Varys unrolled it and read it aloud, "Bruce, you look so much like your father. You have my deepest condolences for the cruel fact that I spent so many years with Thomas as a friend, and you so little with him as a father. I know not what the intent of this letter is, but Varys asked that I give you a message. So my message is this, let the cape down, put the helm away, live your life as your parents wished. You were meant for so much more than the dark life you've subjected yourself to. Live your life remembering how they lived, not how they died. You are a strong, good soul Bruce, never forget that. And remember the promise you made to me the day I left your city. Until next we meet, in this life or the next. Lord Eddard Stark."
Bruce sat in silence as he listened to the words that Varys read. I'm sorry I've failed you Ned, I'm so sorry…
"What did you promise him, my lord?" Varys questioned after a few minutes.
Bruce knew it was none of Varys' concern, but he said it anyways, hoping it would make the eunuch feel guilty. He remembered the day Ned departed from the city, and that last moment on the crest of the hill where Ned leaned in and asked something of Bruce. "I promised to look after his daughters should any harm befall him in the capital. Last I heard, Arya was missing, and Sansa was the Queen's prisoner."
Varys looked to the floor solemnly. "Sansa is an honored prisoner. She retains her room, and servants wait on her every desire. But Arya…yes she has eluded capture. Some believe her dead, but like me, I believe her to have a keen sense for survival."
"What is your plan, Varys? Why did you wish Lord Stark exiled?" Bruce questioned.
"With Lord Stark removed to the Wall, the North would have no reason to wage their war. From there, the League could more securely slip through the Seven Kingdoms, tightening their hold. Then, when the time was right, war would break, but a war that the League would incite, and direct. When the Seven Kingdoms are reduced to ash, the League will step into the light, as saviors."
Bruce's glare narrowed. "A plan of such scope, it would require a mind beyond yours. It would require many sharp intellects and strong hands to secure all the pieces into place. Who else is aiding you in Westoros. Who is leading you, Varys? Tell me, and I'll ensure that when justice comes for all of you, yours will be swifter and more forgiving."
Varys chuckled, "Oh Bruce, why do you ask questions you already know the answer to."
Bruce's eyes widened. "No…no…"
Then a voice spoke softly from behind him, from the section of the wall that he could not see. "Yes, Beloved."
Bruce turned his head, trying to see behind him as best he could. No…no….
As she walked out to stand before him, Bruce's mind tried to wrap around what was happening. He swallowed, and found the strength to speak, "Talia…"
Talia al Ghul leaned in to whisper in Bruce's ear, "Yes, my Beloved, it is me."
She wore emerald green robes that dipped down her chest to her belly to reveal the curves of her breasts. Golden chains draped across her chest and neck. She looked so very different from the warm hearted girl he knew with love shining in her eyes. Her hair, the way it curved down from her scalp to hide the left third of her face, reminded him of the woman he loved so very long ago.
"Talia, you took up your father's mantle?" Bruce asked, his voice trembled on the last word with pain.
"Varys, leave us," she ordered, her eyes never dropping from Bruce's.
Varys nodded and left the room without a word. The moment the door closed, she leaned in and gave Bruce a kiss. Her lips felt so warm, something he had not felt in so long. When she pulled back, his mouth felt naked.
"Talia…why?"
She sat in the chair Varys vacated, staring coldly at Bruce. The woman he had loved was long gone. "That night, when you murdered my father, I swore to never forgive you. I vowed to take up my father's title as Head of the Demon, and take the League of Shadows into a new age. We have spies everywhere, armies poised to strike at a moment's notice. We are a knife slowly, patiently, slipping between the ribs of this world. Soon, we will push to its heart, and silence it forever."
"But why? Why damn every soul just in the name of your father?" Bruce asked. He would try his hardest to dissuade her from her path, but he knew his chances of success were low.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Bruce. This world is flawed, it needs to be reset. The order needs to be balanced and restored. Man has grown too arrogant with its own power. Now, I vowed to you that the next time we met, I would kill you, but instead I offer you this. My love has never stopped burning for you, Beloved. With each day after you left I missed you more, despite what happened. If you swear loyalty to me, we can work together. Build this new world together, and sit at its throne side by side as King and Queen. This was what my father truly wanted for you. He wanted you to be his successor. He wanted our bloodlines to merge, and for you to bring this world into a new age! We are meant to be together, and will rule over all mortals as it should be!" She spoke with such enthusiasm and passion. Does she truly believe I will agree to this? Has her mind slipped so far, or her heart grown so cold that she believes our love is worth more than tens of thousands of lives?
"Talia…I couldn't possibly agree to this… Let go this folly. Give up this deranged, mad power thirst. You cannot rule over all of man. Speaking of such is only foolish. Let this go, and then we can be together. No matter how hard I tried, some part of my heart has always belonged to you, and will always. So please, I beg of you, don't put all of those innocent lives in peril. Our love is not worth all of the destruction you and the League would bring!" Bruce pleaded. It was true, some deeper part of him still loved her, for he had been given no reason not to. Sitting before her now though, seeing how she reacted differently, how her warm, starry gaze had been replaced with a cold wall of ice, he knew that the love she swore for him was corrupted.
She swallowed slowly, closing her eyes in what appeared to be pain. "You would truly forgo our love for such thieves and power hungry murderers? Such men that would kill the world a hundred times over just for a chair of iron swords and a more respectable title?"
Bruce stared at the shadow of the woman he once loved. "I would forgo our love if it were for the chance of saving even one innocent soul."
She scoffed, "Innocent, such a strong word to describe those below us. They believe the savages above their precious Wall to be, but no. The true savages live among them, are them. I forgive you for what you did to my father, Beloved, but it should be you to lead this wave of change to Westoros and the lands beyond, not me. My father always intended for you to hold the reins, and for me to stand at your side. Do not throw what we have away to save these already damned souls. They have condemned themselves and will continue to do so, so you need not throw your life away. You could be a ruler, my Beloved. Reign over men and keep them safe from harm through the men loyal to our cause. You would never have to risk your own life. You could live happily with me. We could have children, and the line of Wayne could continue on for eternity into the light of the sun, not the dark of your cave. Why are you afraid of the light, Beloved?"
"Your light is not the light of the sun, your peace is not true peace, and your mission…it is twisted. Your truths are false, your beliefs immoral, and your dreams of righting this world to your father's image are specks of dust in the wind. You will not win, Talia, it is not I who should accept your proposal, but you who should accept mine. Come with me Talia, let this corrupted dream of your father's spirit lay to rest with him," Bruce prayed. If his limbs were free, he would have gone on his knees before her. If she chose her father's path, it would lead to her ruin, and the world's.
Talia suddenly grew an expression across her face as the ice faded. A slight glimmer of the woman he had once loved flashed in her eyes. "If I did, would you set down your mask? Would you let Batman die and lay at rest with the spirits of your parents?"
Bruce's mind froze. He wanted to tell her what she wished to hear so badly. A desire he burned to feel that was only bested by the desire for his parents to walk among the living once more. His face grew somber, as his head fell and his shoulders slumped. He stared at the ground, not knowing what to tell her.
She stood, staring down at him from on high. Her face frozen in calm anger once more, the sparkle of the old Talia gone to the wind. "I thought not. Ubu!" She called for the muscular right hand of her father.
The dark Summer Islander passed through the doorway along with another thug. Ubu had earned a few more scars since Bruce last laid eyes on him, but the hate burning in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Bruce.
The two brutes lifted the chair up into the air, a feat requiring an immense show of strength as Bruce was armor clad. They carried him up to the deck, all the while Bruce's mind racing to find a way to escape his growingly more certain, doomed fate.
As they reached the deck, a clouded night sky blotted out the stars, preventing Bruce from distinguishing the ship's direction and placement. The two thugs brought Bruce to the side of the ship, facing him out to the sea. "Wait!" Talia called out.
Ubu and his partner turned Bruce and lowered the chair to the deck. Talia approached, glaring at Bruce. "Let him die beneath the helm he loves so greatly."
She placed the helmet over his head, and pushed it down. As Bruce stared out at her through the slits in the helm, he could see the shudder of pain and despair that was washing over her. Tears dotted the corner of her eyes.
Varys came to stand behind her. "Goodbye, Lord Wayne. May the sea grant you more kindness than your life has."
With that, Bruce was turned around, and tossed into the sea. The water exploded upon his entrance, and swallowed him whole. The seawater racked against his metal helmet, causing a great ache. He sunk quickly, and could feel the water clearing the way beneath him and rushing up his armor coated body as he sank to its dark depths. Bruce struggled and fought against his bindings. He could hold his breath for nearly twenty minutes. As the ten minute mark came and went, and still he sunk ever deeper, Bruce began to feel a dark sense of despair.
Is this how I go? Is this the end? How I die? I drown in the sea, while the League plots to swallow the whole of the world?
His lungs ached for air, and he was quickly losing strength to fight back against the sea. As his count reached fifteen minutes, his lips finally collapsed and opened. Water rushed in as if a dam had burst. It flooded his lungs, and burned his throat.
As Bruce's mind slowly slipped into a dark unconsciousness, he was swallowed up by the darkest waters of the sea. Bruce's mind raced with memories of those he would be leaving behind. Of Dick and the first moment he entered the castle. Of Alfred and the look on his face when Bruce had finally come home. Of Clark, and how noble his heart was. Of Talia, and how the love they had once shared was now a smothered ember in a pile of ash. And finally of Selina, the way the moon reflected in her eyes, and the fire that burned in her soul.
I'm sorry mother, father, I have failed. I swore to protect Gotham, but now the entire Seven Kingdoms are at risk. So now I finally join you. I have waited so long to die. I have no more plans, no more means to escape. So here ends the legacy…of the Batman…my legacy.
Well, next week is the last upload of regular chapters. The week after is the epilogue. After that, the story will be on hiatus as I write more of A Clash of Kings: The House of Wayne! About this week's chapters, I enjoyed giving the scene of Barristan's dismissal added scope from Harvey's perspective. And I love writing Varys, so much, so look forward to seeing him more in the next book too. As for Talia being behind all of it, as soon as I showed that Varys was a part of the League I figured it would be a bit of a give away but I hope I surprised a few people! One thing I will say, is that that is the last we see of Bruce in the first book. Will he we see more of him in the second book? Who knows. I don't know how he would get out of his current situation though. Next week, wellll I won't say too much but yeah cool new stuff happens!