Alfred: Chapter 23
With the Joker arrested, the city seemed to sleep easier at night. It was still scarred from Lord Tywin's assault, but the wound was slowly healing. That was something this city could do greater than any other, trudge on. Joker was locked away in Arkham Asylum. Hugo Strange and Ser Gordon seemed to have come to some form of agreement. The Lannister troops stationed at Arkham threw down their crimson colors and took up the white of the City Watch. Many smallfolk rebelled against such a notion, but Gordon could not blame this small handful of soldiers for the actions of their Lord.
Speaking of lords, Gotham had not seen its own in many weeks. Neither Bruce Wayne nor Batman had been seen for quite a long while, typical of both. Lord Wayne never straying far from his bed and whores and drink, and Batman never straying far into the light from the darkness. The city simply assumed Lord Wayne was on a binge of whoring and drinking, while Batman had submerged himself back into the shadows.
Come back to me, Bruce. Come back.
Alfred missed his lord every day. It was not as terrible as the many years he spent alone in the castle, but it was still a hardship. After not having the boy for so long, to finally have him returned as a man, only to leave once more…it was difficult. Alfred still had the other of his two lords.
Dick was sitting beside him as their carriage rolled down the hill into Gotham. Alfred was just doing a few errands, but Dick had offered to accompany him. Dick knew how Alfred was feeling, and wanted to help in any way he could. Such a kind lad, his heart and mind are so bright with passion and love…a love I would never see shut out.
The sun was high in the sky, shining its light down over all of Gotham. Despite the troubling events of King's Landing, Gotham was at peace for the moment.
Alfred looked over to Dick, seeing the boy stare solemnly off towards the last edges of the forest as they reached the city streets. "She'll be alright Master Richard, you'll see."
"I don't know Alfie…Bruce hasn't come back yet…and Lord Stark is dead…How can she be alright? I know the pain of losing a parent, both of them. Wherever she is she isn't going to be fine…"
Alfred sighed. It was so hard to help either Bruce or Dick as they both had suffered so much. "She is a strong, unruly soul, Master Richard. I think nothing short of a second Great Doom would be able to get the best of her."
Dick allowed himself a small smile as he looked up into his servant's eyes.
"I wouldn't be so sure Alfred, she may just find another dragon to fly away should another Doom occur!" Lucius chuckled. He had agreed to drive their carriage into town, that way none of them need stay shut up in the castle racked with worry.
It was nearly dusk when their chores were done. They had bought some new steel for Lucius. He had a new idea in his head but refused adamantly to share it with either of them until it was complete. They had also bought some fresh flowers to set in the study. Alfred had bought some rare fish from the seas south of Dorne off some fishermen at the port as well.
Dick was slowly slipping into sleep leaning against Alfred's shoulder. It reminded him of a young Bruce Wayne, falling asleep after he read stories to the boy.
Dick had been working tirelessly, training by day, and on most nights venturing off into the night as Robin. Alfred knew it would have been a fool's errand to try to keep the boy locked up in the castle for long.
"If Robb Stark can lead an army at five-and-ten I can handle a few mindless thugs at three-and-ten!" Dick had argued when they first discussed the matter. Lucius backed the boy, and Robin had gone out many nights and the worst he had returned with was a small cut to his arm.
"I'm just too fast for them Alfie."
Alfred himself had begun to fall into a much needed light sleep when the carriage came to an unexpected stop. The carriage was without a roof so Alfred could see the cause for delay.
A lone man stood in the street's path, wielding a crossbow aimed directly at Lucius. His face was painted white and red, and he cried out, "You're Lord Wayne's servant yes? Well perhaps killin' you will scare him enough to free Joker!"
"FREE JOKER!" Five more shouted as they crept out of the shadows, three had crossbows, the others wielded daggers and swords.
Dick's muscles were tensed as he stood to fight. Alfred grabbed the boy's shoulder and whispered, "No boy, you can't fight them here or you'll expose yourself."
"Hey! What are you mummering about?" One of them shouted.
"Oh nothing sers, I was merely-" Alfred was cut off as a flash of metal flew from the shadows and jammed itself into the man's chest. He fell back in shock and cried out in pain.
A moment later, another flash came and found itself into the hand of one of the crossbowmen. As the man dropped his weapon to clutch his bloodied hand, a shadow burst forth from the nearest roof.
For a moment, Alfred's heart burst from his chest with joy. He saw the pointed helm, the torn cape, the flashes of metal. But the moment passed, and Alfred realized this figure stood three heads too short to be his beloved lord returned.
The figure dealt with the thugs quickly. Landing a boot to three of their jaws, the others dispatched with more flying flashes of metal.
Dick jumped down from the carriage and ran to their mysterious savior. The figure stood only a head taller than Dick, and was nearly just as lean.
"Who are you? Some impersonator?" Dick scoffed, spite seething in his voice.
The figure turned, and Dick's jaw dropped. Their savior wore the bat symbol on their chest, but it was painted a pale yellow and had smoother edges than Bruce's sharp edged symbol. The symbol also lay not on the muscular metal chest plate of a man, but on the sloped breast plate of a woman. Judging by the height, this was a young girl, and not a woman.
Hair streamed out from the back of her helmet in shimmering waves that were kissed by fire. Her red hair reached just past her shoulders. Her garb and armor were all black, save for her yellow belt, bat symbol, gloves, and the inner of her cape. The cape only reached down to her knees, and as Alfred grew nearer he could see a great deal of her dressings were poorly made. The cape had stitch marks in riddled throughout it, the metal was dented or forged improperly at parts, and some of the black leather she wore beneath the armor was tearing at the seams.
Dick's jaw was still open in amazement as Alfred asked, "My dear, who are you?"
The girl ran a hand through her hair as she flicked it back over her shoulder and smirked. "I'm Batgirl."
Jason: Chapter 1
"Don't forget those sacks over there boy!" The Night's Watchmen shouted.
Jason grunted, "Aye, I won't."
He had gone from Gordon's cell in Gotham to a temporary one in Kings Landing and now was at the command of the Night's Watch. Gordon had forced this life upon him, out of some belief of saving his life, but all it really stood as was a cold death in the North as opposed to a likely brutal one in Gotham.
I'll just sneak off one night while the old man's asleep. They wouldn't waste much effort searching for a bastard like me should I go missing.
Jason was no stranger to surviving on his own, he had done it for most of his life in Gotham, but the woods were a different sort of danger. In Gotham he had to worry about bloodthirsty thugs, cutthroat sellswords, the shadows of Falcone, Joker, Cobblepot, and the other figures one should strive not to cross. In the woods, there were wolves, mountain tribesmen, and now the Lannister troops.
The Lannisters and Northerners had already begun their war. Jason had overheard from two other prisoners that Lord Tywin had crushed one of Robb Stark's armies two weeks past, only a week after Lord Stark's beheading. Then, the Kingslayer's forced had been defeated by Robb Stark himself, or something to the effect, and he now remained a prisoner to the Northerners. Jason didn't know many details, he didn't have to in truth as the politics and wars of the kingdom had little effect on the unfortunate life of a bastard.
His mother and father were dead, and now he just wandered the world fending for himself. He was a lone wolf without a pack.
They dressed him in rags, just as they did with the others. Torn brown breeches, and a wool jerkin with boiled leather shoulder pads. His top had a hood, a faded, dirty old thing, but it would stave off the rain. Jason didn't know where his clothes came from, and he would rather not know. The jerkin had blood stains across its chest and back, with the hood having thick red blotches across its pale white surface. Its former owner was surely sliced at the neck.
As Jason picked up the sacks the Night Watchmen had yelled at him over, he overheard some commotion from behind him. He turned, and looked over at its source.
There was a small boy with ruffled brown hair coating his scalp being harassed by two other boys. One was fat with pudgy fingers, and was shouting out loudly, "Give it here, lumpy, you don't even know how to use a sword."
"Yes I do!" The smaller boy growled back. "I could use it to kill you, I already killed one fat little boy."
The fat one chuckled, "Hear that Lommy? This one thinks he knows how to use a sword. Where did you even get a sword like that? Were you a squire?"
"No I didn't steal it. It's mine. That's castle forged steal you idiot."
"Ha, load of shit. You stole that, where'd you get it then?" The scrawnier of the two bullies, Lommy, boasted. He had long curly blonde hair, and was a twig of a boy.
Jason unloaded the sacks onto the cart, never letting his eyes drop from the scene.
"Hey I know, how bout I take the sword off your hands! I could do more with it than you could!" The fat one shouted in delight.
"Yeah! Do it Hot Pie, take his sword. Little shit's too tiny to wield it right," Lommy chimed.
Jason's fists were clenched. He was no hero, but he hated bullies just as much as the next boy. Jason was tough, he knew what it truly meant to be strong. Bullies were weaker than those they harassed.
"A boy has many thoughts on his mind," Jason heard whispered from behind him.
He turned to stare at the prison cart where the three most dangerous prisoners were kept. Jason walked over to them, looking each one of them up and down.
There was Biter, an enormous brute with soft, doughy flesh. His tongue had been cut out some time ago. His teeth sharpened into pointed daggers, hence his name. He could not speak, only hiss. The next was Rorge, a squat, bulky man covered in hair and missing his nose. Jason did not know the name of the third prisoner, but was sure this was the source of the whisper.
This man had long hair, one half red, the other half white. He had a thin nose, and a gaunt face. His eyes were green with flicks of crimson in them.
"What do you want?" Jason spat.
"A boy has little patience. What name does the boy take?"
"Name's Jason, yours?"
The stranger bowed his head, "Jaqen H'ghar."
"What were you saying of my thoughts? How would you know?"
Jaqen smiled. "A boy wears his rage on his face. The body tenses, the muscles flare, the eyes narrow. You worry for the small boy's life, no?"
Jason turned back to where the two boys were harassing the smaller one. A taller boy had intervened. This one was older than the others, and had shaggy brown hair. He was holding off Lommy as the smallest boy beat her practice sword down upon the fat one, Hot Pie. Hot Pie was on the ground wailing in pain when the Nights Watchmen, Yoren, came over and ripped the small boy off his fat hide.
"See, there is nothing for the boy to fear over," Jaqen pleasantly chimed.
Jason turned back to face the cage, his eyes glaring. "Why do you talk like that?"
"Why does the sea shade itself blue? Why does the grass grow green? Why does your hood burn red?" Jaqen quickly replied.
"Pft, words and riddles is all you are. My hood isn't burned red, its blood from whoever owned it last. The soul's likely not amongst the living judging by how much red he left these clothes in," Jason said inspecting the hood.
"A boy lives such an unfortunate life. Wearing the bloodied clothes of another. The Red Hood, a suiting title for one shrouded in such anger is it not?"
Jaqen had a very mysterious smile on his expression. He seemed to be very pleased with himself. Jason scoffed, "Red Hood? Sounds like a brothel…"
Jason turned and proceeded back to the cart. "I'm gonna rip your head from your neck boy! And feed it to Biter here!" Rorge roared.
Looking over his shoulder Jason smirked. "Good luck gettin' out of there fool. And if you do, I'll cut something else off of Biter that dangles looser than his tongue ever did."
With that, Jason continued over to sit on the cart where he had unloaded the sacks. The older boy and the small one sat at its rear, with their legs dangling off the edge. Jason lept up to sit beside them.
The older one spoke up first. "I'm…the bull, is what they've been calling me. Made a bull helmet and I guess the name stuck. This is Arry."
Jason turned to gaze upon the small boy sitting beside him. His hair was cut unevenly, falling awkwardly across his brow. His eyes were grey, and he was skinnier than Lommy.
"Arry? What sorta name is that?" Jason mocked.
"My father gave it to me," Arry defended.
"Aye, and look where that go you," Jason finished.
Yoren was at the front of their procession. He turned and shouted out to his thirty or so followers, "Come on you sorry sons of whores! It's a thousand leagues from here to the Wall, and winter is coming!"
The wagons pulled forward, and those on foot slowly began their trudge north.
"What's yours?" The Bull asked after a few minutes of silence.
Jason blinked, "My what?"
"Your name, idiot," Arry jeered.
Jason thought a moment. Shouldn't give my true name, I don't know why, but I feel like I shouldn't trust them. None of them are using their real names. No way in hell Arry is his true name.
"Hood," Jason finally breathed. "You're the Bull, so I'm the Red Hood."
Selina: Chapter 21
It had been many weeks since Batman had last made any appearance. One would think that criminals would surge in intensity and rashness as their predator had seemingly abandoned his post, but crime continued to diminish.
With Carmine Falcone dead, most of the remaining crime lords had either gone underground or combated with each other to take the domain Falcone had left abandoned. There were still some powerful players on the board, but Joker and his newfound partner Oswald Cobblepot had quickly marked their territory. With Joker within the walls of Arkham Asylum now, it was only a matter of time until a war between the criminals of Gotham would break out.
Selina chuckled to herself. First the Batman, then Catwoman, Joker, Robin, Penguin, Riddler, and now this new Batgirl, this city is gaining queerly named, masked vigilantes and criminals quicker than it can handle. What's next? Lionman, Wolfwoman, or something more pleasant, a Killer Moth?
The boy had been doing his best to take up the role of the city's chief defender, but Robin was still so young. He had warmth and youth burning in his eyes, while Batman had the cold, jaded eyes that came with years of suffering and struggle. Robin was a worthy fighter for his age, but Batman was a warrior.
Selina often thought of the night they had spent together. Him in her bed, her body draped atop his. It was the first time Selina had actually felt something within her when with a man. She had never loved, nor would she probably ever. But Batman held a certain significance to her. He had saved her life of course, but it was something more to it. They were two lonely souls trudging through day to day existence in a city that swallowed up any emotions and spat them back out as hollowed bones. They had a mutual understanding, despite being from different worlds.
Where are you? The North is at war with the South, the King is dead, his horrid son sits upon the throne, Gotham is in the calm of the storm before hell unleashes itself, we need you, come back…
Selina had never admitted to needing any one in her life before, certainly not a man, but she knew the truth. Gotham needed Batman, from this point on it may always need a Batman. Catwoman would die, Joker would die, Robin would grow old and move on, Gordon would retire, but there would doubtlessly always need to be a Batman, standing tall over the city, the shadow from his torn cape casting its darkness across the city, showing criminals there was a reason to breathe easier when the sun rose.
Hmmm, I could use a drink.
Passing through the central square of the city, was Selina's favorite inn. It served the best ale in the city, and was the only one to carry Arbor Gold wine. Usually it was saved for the wealthiest of Gotham's guests, but she figured her gold was just as good as theirs.
Passing through the oak doors, her black summer dress flowed with the rushing air. A golden necklace with a pendant of a lion's head roaring dangled from it between her breasts. She thought it would be a loving touch of irony. The lions came for Gotham's head, and instead she wore the golden head of one around her neck.
The air smelled of drink and scented oils, as all around her fancy rich women sat with men sitting at their heels like dogs. One fool went even so far as to continually buy drinks for a woman teasing some leg towards him. Pft, fools.
Selina sat at the last table she could find in the right corner nearest the entrance. A servant brought her a glass of wine, and she casually sipped it as she stared out upon the horde of animals in man's skin. With her head turned and her mind wandering, she failed to notice the presence of a guest at her right.
"Beasts, the lot of them, are they not?" The assuredly male voice chimed.
She chuckled, "Yes, pathetic lot of cows in a herd. And you are?"
Selina turned her head to her guest, and her eyes widened in shock as she lowered them to meet her guest's gaze.
The blonde haired dwarf smirked, "I feel no introductions are necessary on my part, but very well. Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, and you my lady?"
Selina's words caught in her throat. The Imp, here? She turned her head back to the crowd, but none of them paid any mind to the Lannister in their midst, all too busy with each other to pay any sense to the real world.
"Selina, Selina Kyle. What brings you to Gotham, my lord?"
Tyrion chuckled, "No need to call me lord. I am lord of nothing. May I sit?"
Selina nodded, still staring in amazement at her guest. The servant came over and took his order of a cup of wine, failing to notice who he was.
As Selina continued to stare, Tyrion chuckled again, "No need to gawk Lady Kyle. Most smallfolk of Gotham have never left the city walls, and since I have not been here in quite some time, they would have no idea how to recognize the son of Tywin Lannister within their walls. I'm just another dwarf, but my gold is as good as any other's. It's actually quite refreshing, not having anyone here associate me with the name of my House. Perhaps these clothes were one of Bronn's smarter strokes of genius."
Selina noticed the dwarf was in a plain green tunic with brown breeches. His hair was disheveled across his brow, but his mismatched colored eyes stared back at her from beneath its canopy.
"So, you asked me what brought me to Gotham? Well the climate of course! No pesky politics like King's Landing, no shadow of my father as there is in Casterly Rock, Gotham is a lovely city upon the sea," the dwarf chimed as his wine arrived and he poured himself a glass.
Finishing the glass in two gulps, Tyrion wiped he mouth with his arm and sighed, "I was in a…near death situation, quite recently, and it's made me re-evaluate many aspects of my life. One being, I haven't seen enough in this world. Grumpkins, the black magic of Asshai, mammoths, sea monsters, so many mysteries in this world that I have yet to see or delve into. And with my father promoting me to acting Hand of the King, well I needed a respite before I commit to such responsibilities."
"You're the Hand of the King? Er, my lord," Selina exclaimed.
"Yes, my father is busy fighting his war with the Starks, and so he has sent me to King's Landing to take poor departed Ned Stark's position. With my nephew now sitting upon the Throne, well, needless to say someone with sense should be helping to run the kingdom."
Selina's brow piqued. "My lord, wouldn't you have gone to King's Landing to be the Hand? Why come to Gotham? A city that hates the name Lannister currently."
The dwarf chuckled, "I mean the city no harm. I bring no armies, merely myself, my trusted man Bronn, and a few tribesmen from the Vale to serve as protection. I have heard of the dubious criminals that lay within these walls. But as I said, I needed a break from responsibility before being made Hand of the King. So I have come here, to delve into it."
"Delve into what?"
Tyrion smiled, his eyes almost staring through Selina. This one is akin to a floating mountain of ice. You see the small peak of his wits plainly, but he hides far too much beneath his unsuspecting surface…
Selina's suspicions were proven true with the small lord's next comment. "Tell me, what do you know of The Batman."
This is the last set of chapters for A Game of Thrones: the House of Wayne. As you can see, I have much in store for the second book, and many new characters to detail. Red Hood and Arya, Robin and Batgirl, Tyrion in Gotham, Batman still missing, Joker in prison, there's a lot to plan and write! Next week, the epilogue, and in typical Asoiaf fashion, it'll be from a completely new perspective. Any reviews are very welcome!