Alfred: Chapter 1
"I do apologize for my lord's absence my lord, it was not something that had been expected," Alfred apologized to the dwarf lord sitting before him. They were in Thomas Wayne's study, and Tyrion Lannister sat in Thomas Wayne's chair. Behind him, sat the fireplace, and to its right, the hidden entrance to Master Bruce's cave.
"Hmmm, curious. The Lord of Gotham vanishes upon my arrival, on a trip to, the Shield Islands you said?" The dwarf stared at him with his mismatched colored eyes and a disbelieving expression.
"Yes, regrettably. He has made it a mission to sail out to each of the islands once a year to determine how they fair. He wishes to encourage more trade between Gotham and the islands now that he has returned."
The dwarf's mismatched eyes glanced from Alfred to the floor to the windows and then to the many books lining the shelves along the wall. "Curious…"
"My lord? I give you my word he is there and not attempting any form of avoidance," Alfred continued.
Tyrion waved a hand. "No no, not that. It's curious, you have two chairs here, yes?" Alfred looked from the chair Tyrion was sitting in to the one beside it.
"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning, my lord."
Tyrion jumped from the chair and proceeded to face the wall behind it where the fireplace stood. "You have two chairs facing away from the fireplace, not towards it. I'm aware it is summer, but even Casterly Rock grows cold on the nights simply from the sea's breeze."
He knelt down to examine the legs of the chair. "There's a thin layer of dust surrounding the legs as well. Why do you have chairs facing away from the fire…Alfred, was it?"
Alfred's words caught in his throat. The chairs had been turned ever since the night Alfred and Lucius had played their game of cyvasse during Lord Tywin's assault on Gotham. "My lord prefers to play cyvasse facing away from the flames as he claims they hurt his eyes. He said it so after my fifth time besting him at the game, but I plead you not share such sensitive information with him. He would be cross if he knew I shared his weakness at a simple game." Fool proof if I do say so myself.
Tapping a finger against his chin, the small lord sighed, "Very well. I've never played the game, but from what I've heard it's anything but simple. Perhaps you and I should play some time, should your lord not return before I leave."
"Y-yes, I would enjoy that very much, my lord," Alfred exhaled with relief.
"No, no, Lord Lannister is my father. You may call me Tyrion, it's the kindest of the many names I've been called over the years. You're from Dorne, correct?"
Alfred blinked. "Yes, how did you know that?"
Tyrion smirked. "I would like to claim it some great deductive skill but I noticed the History of Dorne and its Wars open on the table over in the corner. Unless you read of Dorne in your spare time for pleasure."
"Oh, no you're correct. I even fought in some battles myself in my youth."
Walking over to the table Tyrion reached up on the tips of his toes to reach the book and bring it down in hand. "Hmmm, I've always been curious of Dorne. Perhaps I should venture there before I return to King's Landing."
"Well I would imagine the position of King's Hand is one that requires filling rather urgently my l- Tyrion…" Alfred caught himself.
Tyrion continued flipping through the pages, not looking up from them as he replied, "My nephew is a fool. And he will still be a fool even should I arrive in King's Landing a year from now. Speaking of the King's Hand, the unfortunately departed Eddard Stark stayed in this castle not long ago correct?"
Alfred thought of how warm the castle had felt with the Starks within its walls. The lovely Sansa and her flowing gowns, the unruly Arya running through the corridors with Dick, and Ned Stark's kind words to Alfred. "Yes, they did. Months ago."
"Did he seem very…treacherous then?"
Alfred shook his head adamantly. "No, Lord Stark would never have betrayed the King's trust." Then Alfred remembered he was speaking with the new Hand, and altered his words. "But, if the King states that is what occurred, then…"
Tyrion raised a hand with a kind smile, at last looking up from the tome. "You need not continue, I can tell lying does not come easy to you. And such words surely burn your tongue."
Alfred stared back at the new Hand as he flatly said, "Like wildfire that would never go out."
"Ha, I like that," Tyrion snickered as he set the book upon the table.
"Well, that is all I require of you for now. You know where I am staying while in your city, so should your lord return in time, merely send word and I'll be here within an hour's turn."
Alfred led Tyrion out the study doors and down the corridor. When they arrived to the entrance hall, Tyrion's guard, a sellsword by the name of Bronn, stood waiting.
"Oh is the play date over already?" Bronn questioned as they approached.
"Alas, my play mate was not here today. We shall try on another. Alfred, you have my thanks for playing such a gracious host in your lord's stead," Tyrion said with a shallow bow.
"Of course Lord Tyrion, perhaps we'll have that cyvasse game soon," Alfred replied with a small smile.
"Yes I would like that," Tyrion returned with a grin as he left through the doors.
Alfred returned to the study where he found Lucius already setting up the board for a fresh game of cyvasse.
"Well, how did our guest enjoy our wondrous estate?" The Summer Islander japed with a smirk.
"He was disappointed by the Lord of Gotham's absence. He questioned why the chairs face away from the fire, and noticed the dust built up around the legs," Alfred sighed as he collapsed into the chair.
"The little lord has a sharp eye for detail and a sharper mind to put pieces together. We best not let him schedule many more unplanned visits, or soon Bruce's secret will be known by yet another outsider. Only this one wields more dubious intent," Lucius continued as he moved his crossbowman.
"That would be the least of our problems…." Alfred gave a heavy sigh.
"He'll be alright Alfred, he always is," his friend assured.
With Master Richard, you, and I there to aid him. On his own against the dark forces at play in King's Landing… It's been so many weeks since he left and we've heard no word. I'm afraid now I can do nothing but worry.
Richard: Chapter 1
"Alfie…you don't think he's…you know." Dick hesitantly asked.
Alfred looked down at the boy with gleaming, hopeful eyes but a strained, small smile. "No, Master Richard. I think it would take more than anything King's Landing can muster to get the best of Master Bruce. His mind works in such a way that no man could get the best of him. He is surely staying there because a deeper, graver threat remains. He will return soon, I'm sure of it."
It wasn't enough to convince Dick, but he needed to ride out into the night regardless. With Bruce gone, he was the only one who could stop the criminals that plagued the city's streets.
"Nice night isn't it," Batgirl chimed as she flipped up onto the roof he was standing on. One of two defenders I suppose I should make myself think now. Robin and Batgirl, the last saviors of Gotham should Batman perish. Damn, now even I'm calling her Batgirl.
"If you want to call it that," he flatly replied.
"Funny, Ser Gordon told me you always made the jokes and Batman was the one without a sense of humor," she fired back.
He turned, rolling his eyes. "What you said wasn't funny. Go home, you're too young to do this."
She scoffed, "And you look even younger than me! If Robb Stark can lead an army at fifteen I think myself capable to handle a few brutes."
Dick smiled as he remembered the night he used that excuse to validate his own right to fight crime. "Fine, just don't get in my way."
He threw his grapping hook, landing it against the roof of the building opposite and swung down. Rolling onto the roof, he gaining his footing seamlessly as he continued running. He turned to see how far Batgirl was behind him, only for her cape to brush against his face as she passed her. Her red hair shown vibrantly in the night, much like his golden emblem on his chest.
They ended up taking down twenty thugs that night. Lesser criminals, not involved in the brewing war between Penguin and the remaining members of the family gangs of Gotham. Both armies were missing their leaders, with Carmine Falcone and four other family leaders dead, and their killer, the Joker, arrested.
"I was responsible for beating twelve of them, you had eight. Looks like I beat you again," Batgirl taunted as she leapt off the roof to return to wherever she called home. Dawn was nearing, as the sky above the forests to his left began to turn a pale orange. As he turned to begin the trek up the hill back to the castle, he saw the signal fire alit above the central City Watch keep. The streaks of fire that formed the bat signal burned a dark orange against the reddish orange of the early morning sky.
Dick ran as fast as he could. Gordon only lights that when the city is in desperate danger. Could Joker have escaped? Was Gordon attacked? Someone laying siege?
The questions raced through his mind as his feet raced against the shingles and stones of the roofs connecting him to the keep. When he arrived, he let his grapping hook fly, and quickly repelled up the wall and flipped onto the roof. It was not Gordon that waited for him.
The man before him wore plated armor, with scaled armoring underneath to protect his torso. He was tall, and solidly built. A sword was clenched in his hand, dripping blood along its sharpened edge. But it was his helmet that gave away his identity. One eye slit was missing, with that side of the face painted black, the other a pale orange. The orange gleamed brightly as it reflected the light from the sun slowly poking over the horizon.
Deathstroke. He had never laid witness to the assassin, but he knew of him from Bruce's summary of their fight. Last the world had heard of him, was his body being thrown into the bay after Joker had slit his throat.
"Where's Gordon?"
"Alive, for now," the Half Mask replied. His voice sounded hellish, so cold and unforgiving in tone. It wasn't gravelly, as Bruce disguised his own to be, for it was his own voice. No disguising, no lies, he was a remorseless killer.
"I thought you were dead." Dick raised his sticks, sliding into a fighting stance.
Deathstroke took note, chuckling as he spun his sword and brought it up. "Take's more than a mad clown to defeat me. You're out of your league, boy."
"Joker may have slit your throat, but Batman was the one that defeated you. In a square before hundreds and hundreds of onlookers. I'd be willing to wager that still stings a little," Dick taunted, trying to find a weakness in the assassin's defense or stance. Both were flawless, leaving Dick only one option.
"Ah yes, your mentor. I hear the Batman has been missing for a few months. Perhaps Joker ended up slitting his throat too. How would that make you feel, boy? Your little guardian and teacher dead in a trench with blood seeping from his neck. The death of a fool."
Dick's anger got the best of him as he threw his smoke pot early. The small container burst open at Deathstroke's feet, instantly giving breath to a dark cloud of smoke. Dick lunged to the side, rolled, and came up with his escrima stick aimed for where the man's ribs should have been. His stick however, swung through the smoke, not hitting anything solid.
"Too slow kid," he heard murmured from behind before feeling something hard slammed into the base of his skull.
Hope you all enjoy! I know these chapters aren't overly actiony but the good stuff's coming! I've loved the higher number of reviews I've been getting since starting COK. Keep em coming!