Chapter Text
" Once upon a time, in a golden castle, there was a prince.
He was vain and stupid, and he deserved to di- ouch!! Hey! What was that for?!" Damian demanded indignantly, scratching his hand where it had been bitten viciously by Tim. He pouted at him, who was looking back with reproach and not an inch of guilt.
"What? It was just a story! Cass wanted me to tell one!"
Tim chittered a bit more indignantly, throwing little lints at him to make his point clearer, and Damian was about to throw some back when Steph flew between the two of them to put a stop to it all.
Damian sighed.
"Ok, ok fine. No killing the prince" he conceded, adding, under his breath "for now…"
He received a little peck on the hand for that, by Steph.
"FINE! How about another story? Well… how about this one. It is your favorite after all….
Once upon a time there was a handsome, brave, clever young man that had everything money could buy, but was very lonely. You see, he had lost his parents when he was a child, and he only had his dear old family butler left by his side. He didn’t let his pain crush him, however, and he used it instead to help the poor and suffering, becoming the king's most trusted advisor. Along the way he met friends, and lost lonely kids just like him which he took under his wing, building a strong happy family. There was Dick, an orphan child from a circus who could jump through the air like a bird, Barbara, the brave daughter of a guard that died in battle protecting the city and that dreamed of one day becoming a knight herself, Jason, a street smart boy with a big mouth and an even bigger heart, Tim, a genius son of nobility whose parents never cared for him, Stephany, the daughter of a thief that wanted to study to become a doctor and help people, Cassandra, an amazing girl that was raised by a cast of deadly assassins, but was really the sweetest, more caring sister anyone could wish for and Duke, a brave orphan squire that had risked his life to save those of knights much more powerful than him and that had earned the respect and love of the captain of the royal guard, later become his father.
They were happy, living all together in the man's beautiful old manor.
Then one day, love came, on the wings of the east wind, carrying the princess of a far away land, her skin dark like honey and her eyes the color of jade, and the man fell in love. They married, and had a child. He was a very lucky child, born in the most loving of families and he would have lived happily ever after if not for…"
The infernal bell started ringing. It was time to work, it seemed.
He gave a big sigh. It was for the best, really, it’s not like he could give a happy ending to that particular story. No matter how much he wished to.
The bell rang again.
"Dammit they can't wait for just a second?"
He stood up, brushed his ever dirty ratty trousers and tied his too long, untidy black hair in a messy bun.
Or he would have, if he could just find something to tie them with…
"Boy! If you don't come up in the next five seconds I will leave you without food for a week!" An unpleasantly familiar voice called from upstairs.
"I'm coming!!!" He yelled, cursing under his breath. Guess he would have to deal with the annoying hair getting in his face all day, and once again he wished to take a pair of scissors and hack it all off-
A little chirp caught his attention from a nearby table.
He smiled.
Cassandra was perched on a lamp, his hair tie held in her little beak.
"What would I do without you?" he said with fondness.
She chirped back.
"Be good, all of you! And remember to hide if anyone comes!" He said while rushing up the stairs.
They were, after all, everything he had left. His family.
Two mice, which he had called Jason and Tim, two little robins, Stephanie and Cassandra, an old cat, Alfred, a big black dog called Duke, a goose, Barbara and his beloved horse, Richard.
Had he really named his pets after his dead family? Yes. Yes, he had. Could anyone blame him? Fantasy and wishful thinking were all he had in his dreadful, miserable life.
As he reached the manor courtyard, he stumbled on something, ending up falling on the muddy ground.
A sneering laughter followed.
"Well well, look who stumbled his way out of bed today! You’re late, you lazy ass. I don't even know why father still keeps you around" said Snow's hateful voice from above him.
Biting his lip he tried to get up, when a foot came down on his back, pushing him back in the mud with a splat. "What do you mean why, brother? Who would clean up our shoes then? Who would we get to order around? It wouldn't be as much fun with any other servant, now, would it?" Said the owner of the foot, which Damian would love to cut off, Wunder.
"Now get the fuck up you dirty little rat and ready our horses. We are going hunting"
Damian slowly got up and did just that, knowing very well he could do nothing to refuse. He grimaced, thinking of all the animals that were about to get hurt, and, worse of all, be brought back to him to clean them up and cook them.
They had cooks, of course, but ever since they realized Damian's love for animals it had become one of their favorite ways to torture him. If they were to ever find his little pets… he shuddered at the idea.
He readied the horses, gently caressing their beautiful fur, whispering endearments to them.
"Are you talking to the beasts again? How stupid can you be?"
"It's not like he has anyone else to talk to! Don't worry little man, we're gonna bring back many friends for you to chat with! Like Polly the dead fox and Mary the dead deer, and oh, how about Gertrude the gutted goose! You’re gonna love them!" And they both laughed as if anything he said was actually funny.
Damian just continued to work silently biting his lip again so hard he could taste blood.
Until a hand grabbed his hair, yanking his head back.
"Always so serious you are…" Wunder said in a hiss, way too close for comfort, his disgusting breath warming the skin of his neck "it was funny, you should laugh. Come on. LAUGH'' He ordered, yanking on his bun again.
Damian closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. It would end faster if he didn’t respond. He had to learn that lesson through 8 years of painful experiences.
Wunder didn’t seem placated by his lack of response this time however, and the grasp on his hair only tightened more.
He wanted to turn and punch his step brother’s stupid face so bad. He wanted to jump on the horse, trample both of them and just run. Leave and never come back.
But where? He had nowhere to go...and his pets…
Suddenly Wunder screamed and let go.
"Ugh!!! What the- you fucking birds how dare you!?" He continued yelling, swatting at…
ROBINS. THOSE WERE STEPH AND CASS. He stayed there, paralyzed, watching in horror as the two tiny birds continued to peck at Wunder's face.
"Don't just stand there you idiots! HELP ME!"
Damian of course didn’t move a muscle, but Snow woke up from his stupid trance, grabbed his pistol and aimed-
"ENOUGH" a cold voice called.
All three of them froze, and the two robins, to Damian's relief, flew away.
A dark form had appeared in the stable doorway, and the air seemed to get ten degrees colder.
"What is going on here?" Sir Morgan Ducard asked, his black stare going from his two sons' red faces to Damian's muddy clothes.
"It was Damian's fault!" They screamed pointing at him. Because that’s what they always said, even if it was rarely true. Not that the truth mattered in this household.
Damian forced himself not to laugh, as that would have probably tripled the gravity of his punishment. He just hoped Ducard wasn’t in the mood for violence. The scabs from the last time he felt like lashing…
"We don’t have time for this. We have to go to the palace. Now."
"But we wanted to go hunt!" Snow lamented petulantly, until a deadly look from his father stopped him. "You'll go hunt another time. We are having dinner with the king and the prince tonight. Now go change and be quick about it. I need a word with your… brother" he concluded with a sneer of disgust.
Great. His day was just getting better and better.
Ducard walked up to him, his nose wrinkled.
"Father" Damian said with as flat a voice as he could muster. It was one of Ducard's unbreakable rules, that he called him such, and the one he hated most. Ducard wasn’t his father. He was his jailor. And the man he hated most on this earth.
Ducard grabbed his face and squeezed painfully. "I have a job for you, boy. And you better executed it perfectly . Or...you know what will happen, right?"
Damian turtured his abused lip again. He nodded.
"Good. And clean yourself up. You're disgusting".
He stood there without moving a muscle until Ducard left, and then he crumpled to the floor, scratching at his face where the hateful man had touched him, trying to frantically rub away the sensation of the man's skin against his.
What was it going to be this time? Ducard's…'jobs' were the real reason why he couldn't escape this hell.
He had negated Damian any kind of cultural education, but he had gotten him the best instructors in the art of murder. And deception, and thievery. He had made him his very own personal executioner and Damian had been powerless to stop him.
At first he had forced him by threatening the life of his ailing mother, and he, at only 11, had had no choice but to obey and kill his first man. And then another, and another. Then she died of her mysterious illness and by then he knew that even if he were to escape, the only thing waiting for him outside these walls was a death sentence. Ducard was, after all, the prime advisor to the king and captain of the royal guard. He would hunt him down, find him, reveal his crimes to the world and have him hanged. And then who would be left to care for his pets? It sounded silly but they were his only joy… and the only thing keeping him alive.
With a big sigh he picked himself up from the floor, dried his eyes and went back inside to get ready.
When he got back to his ‘room’ which was really just a cave under the main building, he found Tim and Jason curled up together sleeping, which despite everything made him smile.
He grabbed his winter scarf and tied it tightly around them like a nest.
Duke came up to him, and bumped his legs with his big wet nose, whining a little as if he knew what Damian had to do.
“I know, boy. I wish I didn’t have to go either”
He got out his black uniform, the only good clothes he owned as Ducard only provided him with the best equipment, and made a quick work to clean himself up with a bucket of water and put them on.
He readied his weapons, his swords and grappling hooks and his vast assortment of knives and poisoned darts hiding them all over his person.
He was a walking armament.
Among all the gleaming blades there was only one he didn’t dare touch. It was a dagger, resting in a place of honor under a big framed picture currently covered by a black heavy veil.
He only uncovered the painting on special occasions, in the solace of too lonely nights, when it all got to be too much and he needed to see that beloved face again. To remind himself of who he really was.
This was no such time. This was a time of darkness and evil deeds, of hiding in shame, dragging his heavy chains around the neck of his victims and pulling tight.
Not that the people he killed were innocent. No. They were all part of the same corrupt game Ducard was the main player in. Rich people, dignitaries of other countries, enemies of the crown, or obstacles in Ducard's path. Damian didn't care. A life was still a life. Life is sacred. If there was anything he remembered from his father, it was this unbreakable rule.
His father would be so ashamed of him.
When he emerged from the cave's second entrance, which gave directly to a secluded part of the manor gardens, he found one of Ducard's men waiting for him with his assignment.
At least this time it was somewhere in the city so he would be done soon. He hated it when he had to leave his friends for too long.
After, he walked to the little stable that was not far off. It was small but well kept, surrounded by lavender plants that rose high and thick, like enchanted purple clouds.
It was his favorite place, as it held half forgotten memories of laughter and comfort, from another life. One he wasn’t even sure if it was real or a wishful fantasy anymore.
He walked through the fragrant plants letting their familiar scent comfort him a little and entered the stable. The prettiest picture appeared in front of him.
His horse, Richard, asleep on a nest of hay, with a white ball of feathers curled on top of him, softly snoring as well. It broke his heart to have to wake them up.
He caressed the white feathered goose, and she lifted her neck to gently peck at his gloved fingers, where he was holding some wet bread as a peace offering.
"Hello Babs. Sorry to wake you up. But…" he didn't finish the sentence. She knew, somehow, because she nudged his hand in affection and then pecked Richard to wake him up.
The black horse's eyes opened up to reveal their starling blue.
He wasn’t sure if there was any other horse with such amazing blue eyes. He didn't care. His Richard was one of a kind after all.
He loved him with all his heart.
"Hey" he said in a whisper as the horse stood up and nuzzled against Damian's head.
Damian closed his eyes, hugged his head and kissed his slick black fur.
"Time to go again", he said with pain in his voice, allowing himself the last bit of emotions. A last breath of humanity as he stroked the beloved animal. He had named the horse Richard, like his most beloved older brother, the first child his father had ever adopted. He had loved all of his brothers, but his relationship with Richard had been special. He had been almost a second father to him, always there even when his father had been away on missions. He missed him so much. He wondered if they looked down at him from above, sometimes. He hoped not.
He closed his eyes and took out his mask, placing it upon his face. When he opened his green eyes again, there was no trace of emotion left.
It was time to spill some blood.