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Chapter Text

It was an easy matter to slip out of his window and carefully inch across the protruding stone blocks until he reached a lower roof, at which point he was able to ease himself onto the impressively strong trellis bolted to the wall and climb the rest of the way to the ground. With both feet firmly on the grass, Dick took a moment to breathe in the cool nighttime air and listen to the sound of crickets singing their nighttime tune.

Then he turned around.

And found himself face-to-face with Squire Duke Thomas, who stared at him with one eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest.

Dick plastered a smile on his face, refusing to let his surprise show. “Duke! I was just, um, going out for a stroll! It’s so pleasant out tonight that I couldn’t resist!”

Squire Thomas shifted his gaze over the plain traveling cloak and clothes that Dick was wearing and onto the pack slung over his shoulder before returning serious brown eyes to his face. “Highness, you know you require a guard to accompany you for any… strolls you’d like to take. Please, allow me to fetch Sir Harper for you.”

Dick would very much not like that.

He faked a yawn in a practiced manner. “Actually, I’m pretty exhausted. I think I’ll go back up to bed instead.”

“An excellent idea, your highness.”

Dick waited a moment to see if Squire Thomas would move from where he was, but evidently he’d been well-warned about Dick’s proclivity toward slipping away the moment no one was paying attention to him. He remained right where he was, chin up, expression stern, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes that couldn’t be mistaken.

Sir Harper had taught him well.

Barely withholding a sigh, Dick looked up at the trellis and traced his eyes along the path he’d need to take to safely return to his room. Then he began to climb.

Hands grasped the hard edged of the trellis where it was most secure and feet found a hold in the grooves that stuck out more than others. Dick was just about to reach for the first stone jutting out above the trellis when Squire Thomas cleared his throat from below.

“Highness, perhaps you’d prefer to use the stairs?” he suggested.

Dick lightly knocked his head against the wall out of frustration before casting his gaze down to Duke, who met with eyes with the tiniest of amused grins. “You couldn’t have said that sooner?”

Squire Thomas didn’t respond until Dick had both feet firmly back on the ground. “Sir Harper says its best to let you try things your own way first. It’s often more difficult than necessary and you’re more likely to agree to a more sensible alternative after you’ve tried, particularly if you’re going something you’re not supposed to. Highness.”

“I regret more every day that I suggested Roy as your mentor,” Dick grumbled without any real heat. He set off toward the nearest door, leaving Squire Thomas to follow along.

Duke Thomas had come a long way since his arrival at Castle Wayne. His parents had been minor nobles in the court who found themselves captured and tortured by a truly loathsome man who was known far and wide as the Joker. The torture had been so overwhelming for their minds and bodies that they were left in a near vegetative state, unable to recognize their son, never mind their surroundings.

King Bruce Wayne reached out and took young Duke under his wing, giving the boy a place with his family, just as he’d done for Dick so many years before. It hadn’t been long at all before Duke declared that he would become a knight of Gotham, sworn to protect its people against those who wished them harm.

He was dedicated. Smart. A swift learner.

There were several knights who spoke up in interest of taking him on as their squire and it was likely that Sir Luke Fox would have won that honor if Dick hadn’t stepped in and suggested Sir Roy Harper instead.

It was a move that ruffled more than a few feathers.

Roy Harper was not a Gotham native.

He hailed from a land farther to the west, where he was seen as the trouble-making son of King Oliver of Star. When they were young, Roy had been sent to Gotham in the hope that being in a foreign land may quell some of his wild behavior, which of course didn’t work as well as everyone had hoped.

Roy met Dick and Dick introduced him to the rest of his friends and they proceeded to have all kinds of dangerous adventures, some within the borders of Gotham but many beyond. Together, they became known as the Titans.

One thing led to another and Roy cut ties with the Kingdom of Star, instead swearing allegiance to the crown of Gotham.

Despite all of that, and the many times he directly saved their prince’s life, distrust was rife among Gotham’s nobility and Dick had watched his friend get turned away time and time again whenever he put in a request for a Squire of his own. So, when the opportunity came up, Dick seized it.

It wasn’t only for Roy, but for Duke’s benefit as well. Because while there was no doubt that Sir Luke Fox was a good man and an even better knight, Dick genuinely believed that Roy was better suited to mentor Duke. His friend had a temper and a few rough edges, but he was passionate and fiercely loyal to those he deemed deserving of it. He’d learned how to temper the wildness of his youth, honing it into a sharp blade that he wielded with ease.

And Duke, who had such anger within him when he first arrived, could use someone like Roy on his side. Someone who understood. Someone who could guide and support him without casting judgement.

The proof that Dick was correct was right behind him, continuing to grin as he escorted the prince through the halls and back to his chambers.

Duke was going to be a fantastic knight one day.

“I suppose you’ll be telling Roy about this,” Dick said with a resigned sigh as they reached the door to his room.

“I will,” Duke agreed. “But… if you promise to not attempt to run away again tonight, I’ll convince him that the King doesn’t need to know about this.”

It was a tempting idea to make a break for it the moment he was alone once again. Duke would need a few minutes to get back to the courtyard beneath the window and there was unlikely to be anyone else patrolling the immediate area. It could be the last chance he’d get to escape the news that had been dropped on him that evening after dinner.

“Dick…” Duke said softly, dropping all formality for a moment. “I know this situation isn’t idea, but maybe you could give it a chance? It might not be as bad as you think.”

A rush of irritation zipped through Dick and he hastened to his door, yanking it open harder than necessary.

“Goodnight, Squire Thomas,” he uttered dismissively, feeling only a flicker of regret at the hurt expression on Duke’s face as he slammed the door shut.

Duke didn’t know what he was talking about.

Life, as Dick knew it, was over.

His mood was not any brighter in the pale light of morning as Dick got up and began to prepare for breakfast. Discomfort settled heavily in his stomach, leaving him feeling nauseous and generally uninterested in food. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d skip out entirely in favor of a walk through the gardens, but after his escape attempt the night before, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that more guards had been posted around to keep him from fleeing.

Dick was in the process of stripping out of his nightclothes when his personal servant, Joey, bustled through the door with a soft cloth draped over one arm and a pot of heated water in his hands. The fair-haired Omega smiled at the sight of Dick already up and moving, but didn’t break stride as he walked to the wash basin and carefully poured in the water.

“G’morning,” Dick grunted, more out of habit than any true desire to speak.

On a normal day, Dick would break the quiet of the room by talking about whatever came to mind, all the while keeping an eye out for the hand motions that made up the language Joey could “speak”. The other Omega could hear perfectly well, but for whatever reason was unable to use his voice. (A little different from Dick’s sister, Cassandra, who had been raised from birth without any language or means of communication and only learned after Bruce found her and brought her home.)

On that day, Dick said nothing more. He stood still as Joey bathed him to his satisfaction, wiping away the sweat and trace amounts of dirt from his escape attempt. It wasn’t until after Dick was dressed for the day and Joey began to take a brush to his hair that he felt up for speaking.

“Do you think I’m overreacting about this, Joey?” Dick asked.

Joey paused for a moment to set down the hairbrush and move in front of the prince. ‘You deserved more warning. I would have tried to run too,’ he signed.

“Talked to Duke, have you?” Dick grumbled.

‘Perhaps.’

Joey returned his attention to Dick’s hair, brushing out the waves until they were free of tangles and then styling it to be pulled back out of the way. It wasn’t his normal look for a day at court. Nor were his clothes of the right style and colors.

Dick plucked at his pale blue tunic which was tucked into his favorite navy waist-corset that was embroidered with yellow diamond patterns. They paired well with the dark gray trousers Joey had selected, though even they were designed with comfort in mind. “This seems a bit casual, don’t you think?”

Joey tilted his head to the side as he examined Dick from head to toe and then nodded in satisfaction. ‘Lady Cassandra requested that I ready you to go riding with her after breakfast.’

The news made Dick considerably more cheerful for a moment before remembering that he still had to sit through a meal with Bruce. It was likely that the King wanted to discuss the… unfortunate news he’d delivered to Dick the evening before.

Still, a ride with his sister would be a welcome reprieve from the weight of it all.

There were two dining halls within the castle.

The larger was for formal events or when they were hosting dignitaries from other lands. It was spacious and located near the main entrance for easier access. Large stained glass windows lined the upper walls, depicting the history of the Wayne family and how they came to power.

The second hall was smaller, cozier. Found in the heart of the castle, it was for family alone, though they’d joked in recent years that they’d have to expand it should Bruce continue to adopt more children.

Dick was the oldest of them, taken in when he was nine after his parents fell while performing for the King and his court. There had been complaints from the nobility when Bruce named him the Prince of Gotham and not all of them were silenced by the acknowledgment that Dick would never be named heir, but Dick had overcome those odds and was well-liked by most.

Next had come Timothy, son of Earl Jackson Drake and Countess Janet, who tragically lost their lives while traveling abroad. With no other family to claim him, it had been Bruce who stepped up and took him in. As Tim was in line to become the next Earl Drake, he had turned down the offer of adoption in favor of being named a ward of the crown.

Cassandra followed Tim. Like Dick, she wasn’t born of a noble family, but her parents were far from kind. Her mother abandoned her soon after her birth and her father… well, the less to be said about David Cain, the better.

Duke was the fourth, but likely to be far from the last. Rather like Tim, he chose to become Bruce’s ward rather than a son, taking his place among them as a potential knight.

All three of them, along with Lady Katherine (Bruce’s maternal cousin), were there when Sir Jim Gordon, Captain of the Royal Guard and personal Shield to the King, opened the door and gave him a nod as he walked inside.

Bruce was there as well, seated at his traditional spot at the head of the table with empty chairs to his left and right. One was for Dick in recognition of his status as the eldest son and the other left open for the future Queen.

Dick reluctantly took the open seat to Bruce’s right. He could barely bring himself to look at the man, even as he stood to address the family.

“I am sure that by now you’ve all heard the happy news—” (Kate gave an unladylike snort which Bruce expertly ignored.) “—but I received even greater news by raven just this morning.”

Something sour made itself present at the back of Dick’s throat. Whatever Bruce’s so-called “good news” was, it was bound to be not-so-happy for him.

Cass reached over and squeezed Dick’s knee in sympathy.

Bruce’s face went soft as he continued to address them. “Princess Talia has sent word that she and her sons will be arriving in a fortnight in order to take part in the preparations for the wedding.”

Dick was going to be sick.

How could Bruce sound so happy about it?! Couldn’t he see that he was ruining Dick’s life?

Bruce removed a slender box from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of Dick. The box itself was plain brown and latched with bronze. On top was the crest of Nanda Parbat - a jewel-green dragon curled around a sword.

“For you,” he said to his oldest son. “A token from Prince Jason.”

Dick couldn’t breathe.

He stared at the box, his vision darkening at the edges, chest tightening the longer he sat there.

He stood abruptly, shoving his chair back with enough force that it nearly tipped over. He thought he may have gasped out his need for fresh air, though it was just as likely that he said nothing at all, and then fled the dining hall through a side door that was normally only used by servants.

A fortnight.

Two weeks before he met the Alpha he was being forced to marry.

Chapter Text

Dick never made it to his morning ride with Cass.

His legs carried him out past the northern gate and into the Old Bristol Forest, through the ancient oaks and pines until he found the best spot to scale the ancient ruins of a nameless castle and settle in the favored hideaway of his childhood. There, in the crumbling belfry, he could just be Dick. Not the Prince. Not an Omega. Just himself.

He let his back rest against warm, solid stone, right leg drawn up against his chest and his arm on the same side lightly resting on his knee. The other leg dangled over the edge, the only part of him visible from beneath.

The sun’s rays beat down on his hiding spot and it was only thanks to what remained of the roof that he had any protection from its blistering heat. Even then, his clothing grew damp with sweat, a heavy reminder that his time there was limited and he’d soon have to return to the responsibilities of the world below.

Dick sighed softly as the scuff of boots on stone reached his ears.

A moment later, Bruce appeared on the lowest floor. His steel blue eyes easily found their way to his wayward son but betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. After a moment, he removed his black outer coat and draped it over what remained of an inner wall. He rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and began to climb, slowly, carefully, testing each space before allowing his full weight to fully rest upon it.

Before too long he was settling in across from his sun with a low grunt.

Dick ignored him and kept his eyes on the sun-drenched forest. He said nothing and neither did Bruce. It could almost be considered peaceful if not for the burning resentment filling Dick’s chest.

Bruce shifted slightly and then softly spoke: “You have every right to be angry with me.”

It took every ounce of willpower that Dick had not to lash out at those words. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and pressed his lips more tightly together. He pointedly did not look at his father.

“Alfred pointed out that it was inconsiderate of me not to speak with you before announcing your engagement.”

Dick’s blue eyes flared with heat as he turned them onto Bruce. “You shouldn’t have agreed to it at all! You promised me, Bruce! You swore that it would be my choice and then you turned around and stole that from me!”

Bruce didn’t flinch from the raw hurt in his voice. He continued on, as steady as ever. “When you were sixteen, I promised to give you a reasonable amount of time to choose.”

Dick scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Chum, you’re turning twenty-eight soon. There are many who have started to whisper that there’s something undesirable about you, or worse, that I intend to keep you for myself,” Bruce said.

Dick cringed at the thought even as he said: “It’s not like you to cater to rumors.”

“True. And those that know us best have been swift to shut down such talk. However…” Bruce paused to sigh. “I’m getting old, Dick. I worry that soon the day will come that I won’t be here to ensure your freedom.”

“You’re not that old.”

A small smile twitched into place on Bruce’s face. “Hn.”

“And I’m perfectly capable of maintaining my own freedom. I don’t need some Alpha that neither of us has met to do that for me! For all you know, he could be the exact type of Alpha you’re trying to protect me from!”

“I trust Talia — ”

“Well, I don’t,” Dick cut in.

Bruce’s smile slipped away, his soft expression replaced by something sorrowful. “I know the two of you have had your differences — and valid ones, at that — but I trust her to not mislead me on this.”

A moment of silence hung in the air between them and then Bruce spoke again.

“You are not the only one who stands to gain protection from this union.”

Dick hugged his other leg up to his chest. “Yeah, right.”

“Ra’s al Ghul has always placed a heavy importance on blood ties. Talia taking an outsider into her care was already pushing his beliefs, but then she adopted him as her own. Binding him to our family through marriage will provide him the protection he needs.”

Dick remained silent as he took in the new information.

He knew the al Ghul’s were blood purists. It was the reason he and Talia had never seen eye-to-eye throughout her engagement to Bruce — an engagement which ended with the two royals declining marriage but also resulted in the birth of Prince Damian. For Talia to have turned around and adopted a son after her disparaging comments toward Dick…

“I am sorry that I didn’t talk to you about this before now. We felt we needed to move quickly when Ra’s revealed his intentions to have Damian travel here this summer,” Bruce said.

Dick did understand why the proposal was so tempting for Bruce. Ensuring his marriage removed Dick as a bargaining piece from the never-ending politics of the land. That his betrothed was the adopted brother to young Prince Damian also provided an extra layer of protection; he was unlikely to be ousted from his home once Damian began his rule over Gotham. (Or, worse, betrothed to the child who was 15 years his junior.)

All of that would have been enough on its own, but the fact that it would help Jason as well was likely the tipping point for Bruce, bleeding heart that he was.

But understanding Bruce’s reasoning did not mean Dick needed to agree with it.

Silence descended upon them once more, but Bruce made no attempts to break it again. After a few minutes, he seemed to accept that Dick had nothing more to say to him and he reached into his pocket to withdraw the slender, square box from breakfast. He set it on the flat arch between them and slid it a little closer to Dick.

“I hope that you can find it within yourself to give him a chance.”

With that, Bruce left the way he came, climbing down just as slowly and carefully as he ascended.

Dick continued to sit there long after Bruce was gone. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky and his stomach began to grumble in protest the moment he contemplated skipping lunch as well.

He breathed out slowly as he released his legs. Leaning forward, he picked up the box, but it was another few minutes of tracing his fingers over the dragon before he cracked it open.

Nestled inside on blue silk was a delicate brooch fashioned into a bouquet of jonquils. The outer petals of the flowers were mother-of-pearl and the inner petals were yellow citrine. Deep green jade gave color to the leaves and stems and the whole thing was backed in gold. It was truly a work of art.

More than that, it represented the first gift in traditional courtship: a bouquet of flowers.

For the next week, Dick could scarcely get a moment to himself. From the moment he woke, he had Joey by his side and from there would be “passed” between family and trusted friends so there was no chance of escape. Dick found it funny the first day, but as the second rolled into the third, his frustration began to reach its limit.

Was it too much to ask for a little room to breathe?

Did they doubt him so much, that they thought he’d turn tail and run the second someone showed their back?

It was stifling.

It was infuriating.

Even in his chambers, he wasn’t free of it. If Joey wasn’t there, he had a guard stationed at his door to periodically check in on him, and all it took was a glance through his windows to confirm that there were others watching over any escape route. Worst of all was the presence of Prince Jason’s courtship gift, hidden from sight but heavy on Dick’s mind.

When Lady Barbara Gordon, daughter of Captain Jim Gordon, arrived on day six, Dick extended an invitation to her for afternoon tea without a second thought. In all likelihood, she had traveled from her family’s estate to assist the others in keeping him distracted, but he couldn’t find it within him to care. An afternoon with Barbara would be like a breath of fresh air. She may even bring fresh perspective to the table, thanks to her unconventional role as the kingdom’s Oracle — a position known only to a select few.

Every rumor, every story, every whisper of unease or discontent passed through her ears or by her eyes. No one understood the machinations of Gotham better than Barbara, not even their Spymaster, Selina Kyle.

Lady Barbara arrived on a dreary morning in her understated carriage that had been built to accommodate her large-wheeled chair. Her coppery red hair was twisted into an elegant up-do and her green gown, while simple in design, was embroidered and beaded with the finest precision, not a stitch nor strand out of place as she rolled into the castle and sought out Dick.

They took lunch in the conservatory, surrounded by lush plants and a perfect view of the path leading to the guest wing of the castle.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much I can tell you about Nanda Parbat and its ruling family,” Barbara told him. There was no pity in her green eyes, just quiet understanding. She’d had to face a betrothal of her own, once, and admitted in one of her bleakest moments that she’d been glad for his passing and how it’d given her the opportunity to meet her now-wife, Helena, a rather terrifying Beta who was handy with a crossbow and unafraid of standing up to any Alpha who thought they could push her around.

“Anything you know will be useful,” Dick told her. “I just… I can’t stomach the thought of asking Bruce right now. I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to storm out! It’s like I’m seventeen all over again and fighting against all of the choices he wants to make for me.”

Barbara gently placed her fork on the edge of her plate. “Nanda Parbat has long been a land shrouded in mystery. Until fifteen years ago, it was considered a holy place, guarded by its masters and only allowing visits from those deemed worthy.

“Things shifted after the collapse of ‘Eth Alth’eban and the desolation of the eastern continent. Their leader, Ra’s al Ghul, sought a new home for those who survived and eventually found it on Nanda Parbat, where he named himself the sovereign ruler. But much like the island’s previous guardians, few outsiders are permitted to land on their shores. Little news gets out unless Ra’s wants it to.”

“You’ve never heard anything about Prince Jason?”

“Only whispers. Rumors,” Barbara admitted, allowing some of her frustration to seep into her voice. There was little she hated more than not knowing something. “So much of what I’ve heard is a mixture of contradictions. It’s hard to decipher fact from fiction when I don’t have a baseline for what’s real. Ruthless, but compassionate. Brutal, but merciful…”

She sighed and cast her eyes down to her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. “I have my best monitoring their progress as they journey here, but even with that I have nothing. They slipped from ship to covered carriage in the night and since then have taken care to only exit for the night once the tents are up. I couldn’t even tell you what your prince looks like.”

“Ugly, probably. With warts,” Dick grumbled.

Barbara cracked a smile as she raised her eyes to look at him. “Missing a tooth. Maybe an eye or finger.”

“Horrible scars everywhere.”

“Bald.”

Dick choked on the laughter that he tried to hold in. And despite his best attempt to cling to his displeased over his upcoming nuptials, he soon found himself grinning back at Barbara.

It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t pretending that everything was normal. She wasn’t tiptoeing around the situation or trying to convince him that it would all work out in the end.

“You never know, he could be rather handsome. What will you do then?” Barbara wondered out loud.

Dick shrugged. “Be thankful that we’d at least have cute kids? I don’t know, Babs. I just… I wish we’d been given the chance to meet before getting all of this sprung on us.”

Movement outside caught their attention and they both turned to watch as a caravan bearing flags with a gold, 8-point star on an emerald green backdrop rolled into view. At the lead was a young man with dark hair astride a chestnut stallion. His black leathers indicated his position as one of Nanda Parbat’s knights.

“Well, now. Speaking of handsome…” Barbara murmured appreciatively.

“You are married,” Dick kindly reminded her.

“Yes, and I have two functional eyes. I can admire without betraying my wife,” she said. “I wonder… They must be the advance party. A handful of knights to oversee security and hand-chosen servants to prepare the rooms for the royals.”

“Most likely,” Dick agreed.

Barbara was quiet for a moment as they watched her father and Alfred Pennyworth — the man who’d not only raised King Bruce, but single-handedly managed all of the people who worked within the castle’s walls — arrived to greet them and lead them to their accommodations.

“If there’s one thing that certain in every kingdom, every land I’ve come to know, it’s this: the maids know everything,” Barbara said as she continued staring out of the window.

It took a moment for her words to sink in.

But once they did, a plan began to form in Dick’s mind.

It was true that in Gotham, the servants knew more than they let on. He wagered it was the same in Nanda Parbat as well. However, what little he knew of Prince Jason was that he could fight.

If Dick wanted to stand a chance at learning anything about the Alpha prince, perhaps it wasn’t a servant he needed to speak to, but a knight.

Aside from his eyes, which were a vibrant shade of blue, there was nothing particularly outstanding about Ric. He was of average height for a male Omega — perhaps on the taller side — and his raven locks were hardly uncommon around Gotham. His clothing was nothing special, and while it had a frayed edge here and there and a stain or two, there were no clear patches from repairs. It was modest, consisting of loose-fitted gray trousers, a beige tunic, and a blue-gray vest with brass buttons. All of it was unembellished. (And all of it actually belonged to Joey.)

He kept his head down, blending in with the castle staff as he quickly moved through the corridors. Only a few paused to give him odd looks, but most ignored him.

Ric was, of course, Prince Dick’s favorite disguise.

As long as he stayed out of the way (and didn’t use it to swipe too many desserts from the kitchen), the majority of the servants were content to ignore him. He avoided those who would take issue.

At Barbara’s advice, he’d waited a day for their new arrivals to get settled in. A whole twenty-four hours in which he had to convince and cajole his minders into helping him, swearing to them that he had no plans of running.

Joey caved first. Then Cass. Then Roy. And finally, Tim threw up his hands and agreed to help, but only if Dick would join the family for a single meal every day.

For the sake of learning more about the Alpha he was betrothed to, Dick agreed.

Breakfast that morning was uncomfortable for all involved, with Dick steadfastly ignoring Bruce and pretending he wasn’t in the room. (That it made Tim squirm made him feel a little bad. But only a little.)

All of that was behind him now and he was Ric, humble servant who was stepping outside to enjoy a little fresh air.

It was there, standing in a corner of the sprawling garden where there was only thick grass, that he found the knight that he and Barbara had seen the day before. Ric paused for a moment to watch the young man shift through his stances, expertly guiding his sword against an invisible enemy. He was good.

Ric’s fingers itched for the weight of his own sword in his hand, to square off against the foreign knight and put him to the test.

But…

He shook off the temptation and started walking once again, keeping within view and casting the occasional glance at the knight. He let his curiosity show plainly in his face and body language, hoping it might be enough for the knight to initiate conversation. If not, Ric would have to take the blunt approach.

Luckily, it didn’t come to that.

After only a few minutes of Ric pretending to be out on a casual stroll, the knight lowered his sword and threw a scowl in his direction.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

There was irritation in the young man’s voice, but it lacked the sharpness of a bite, instead falling into a weary octave that belied a lack of patience.

“Forgive my intrusion, sir knight,” Ric said with a bow just polite enough to keep his hat upon his head. “I only wished to try and satisfy Prince Richard’s curiosity about his guests and, well…” He purposefully trailed off and avoided looking directly at the knight. “I shouldn’t be saying this, but… but I think he’s nervous. He’ll soon be married and he knows little about his mate-to-be. I guess I’d hoped to find an answer or two for him.”

The knight regarded him for a moment. His frown didn’t fade in the slightest, but there was something in his expression that seemed to soften somewhat, into what may have been cautious understanding.

“You want to know about Prince Jason?”

“Only what you’d be willing to share,” came Ric’s quick response.

He played up his eagerness to learn and walked a little closer, slowing only when his eyes caught the glint of steel as the sword shifted under sunlight. He took a few seconds to admire the quality of it and the fine details of the hilt, wrapped in gold and green with a diamond pattern resembling the scales of a serpent.

The knight followed his gaze. With one fluid movement, he sheathed his weapon and let it settle at his hip. “I would be willing to do an exchange of information. My prince would welcome whatever I could offer him upon his arrival.”

Ric offered him a pleased smile and held out his hand. “An exchange of information, but only as much as we’re comfortable with.”

It took the knight an extra bit of time to scrutinize him, but then his warm hand slid into Ric’s and gripped it firmly.

“Agreed.”

Ric stepped back to give him some space, rocking slightly from heel to toe in excitement. “Great! I’ll go first: what’s your name?”

The question startled a short laugh from the knight — but really, it wasn’t like Ric could go around calling him “sir knight” the whole time! That would just be rude!

“It’s Peter. And yours?”

“I’m Ric!”

Even with the icebreaker, it took a few minutes to get conversation rolling smoothly. They stumbled over what amounted to small talk, each trying to feel out the others intentions before moving on to what was truly important. But while Ric wouldn’t have minded hearing more of Sir Peter’s thoughts about the voyage he’d taken to reach Gotham, the young knight seemed to quickly tire of such talk and directed the topic to what they were both there for.

“Prince Jason only heard the news one week ago,” Sir Peter said. “We’ve been planning for Prince Damian’s visit, of course, but the suddenness of this wedding… It took us all by surprise.”

Ric nodded. “Yes. Us as well. The Kingdom is delighted to celebrate such a happy event, and this is certain to be a summer wedding remembered for years to come.”

“And your prince? Does he feel the same way?”

Oh, Dick was sure to remember it for the rest of his life, but he was far from sharing in the delight his people were displaying.

“Prince Richard is willing to do his duty for the sake of Gotham.”

There. A diplomatic answer. And one that was the truth.

Dick wasn’t going to run from his betrothal. He wouldn’t cower or try and hide like a child in the face of a scary, big world. He would marry Prince Jason and find a way to make the best of a situation he’d been backed into. (And should his mate-to-be turn out callous and cruel, he could always enlist Roy’s help and run away to Tamaran in the far north where he would find sanctuary under Queen Koriand’r’s rule.)

“What’s Prince Jason like?” Ric asked.

It wasn’t an easy question. There were a hundred little ways to go with it and, in all likelihood, Sir Peter would soften the truth.

Sir Peter looked off into the main garden, his brow furrowed in thought. Then his expression shifted into something stony and he leaned close to Ric with no warning. Even still, it had the Omega feeling more confused than like he was in danger.

Ric blinked. “Sir Peter?”

“Walk with me?”

Sir Peter offered up his arm like a gentleman and when Ric took it, he could see up close the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, the sea-blue of his eyes, and the strength hidden away beneath his red tunic.

Barbara was right. (But she always was.)

He was handsome.

Sir Peter led them out of the garden and toward the massive oak whose branches Dick had spent a good chunk of his childhood climbing. It stood out in the open and there was no real hiding from anyone unless they were to ascend its leafy boughs, but it was also far enough away to hold a private conversation with the risk of being overheard.

Which, Ric realized when he looked back to where they’d been standing, was exactly why Sir Peter insisted on leaving. He could just make out Sir James Gordon Jr watching them from a hedgerow near where they were talking before.

“Good eye,” he complimented Sir Peter. “That’s Sir Gordon Jr. I’d, uh, rather not talk about Prince Richard where he can listen in.”

Mostly because Sir James never particularly cared for his “Ric” persona and was one of the few who didn’t play along when he wanted to go incognito for a while. What he was doing out in the gardens and away from his usual post, Ric could only guess. (At least Roy wasn’t there to hypothesize the worst scenario — Dick wasn’t sure what it was about Sir James he didn’t like. The younger Alpha was annoying, but didn’t mean any harm. And anyway, it couldn’t be easy to be the son of the captain and all of the expectations that came with it.)

Sir Peter cut his eyes back to Ric. “Gordon? Like the captain?

Ric nodded.

“He’s been following me since I got here. I thought I’d finally lost him, but it seems I was mistaken,” Sir Peter said crossly. He then sighed and rolled his shoulders as if trying to release some of the tension he was carrying. “You wanted to know what Prince Jason is like?”

“Well, Prince Richard would like to know. I’m just the messenger,” Ric felt the need to remind him.

“Your prince couldn’t have picked an easier question? What if I asked what he is like?”

“Stubborn,” Ric said with a hint of a smile.

Sir Peter rolled his eyes, but Ric was certain it wasn’t out of malice, but shared amusement. “That’s just a royal trait. All that privilege and familiarity with getting their own way. I could say the same about both of mine.”

Ric laughed. “Okay, you have a good point. Let’s see… How about a new question? Like… what is his favorite dessert?”

The question drew from Sir Peter the first genuine smile that Ric had seen through their whole interaction so far.

“There’s this pie they started making for him back in Nanda Parbat based on one he remembered from his childhood, but… more. Better. Packed with warm spices and some kind of syrup to keep it all moist. I’d say that’s his favorite,” Sir Peter said. “My turn. Hmm… Does the prince have any pets?”

“He had a dog growing up. Ace. No pets right now, unless you count his mare, Nightwing,” Ric said.

He took a moment to sit down and make himself comfortable at the base of the tree before gesturing for Sir Peter to join him. After a moment of hesitation, he did.

“Prince Jason… he’s adopted, right?” Ric asked.

Sir Peter nodded. “Princess Talia found him when he was twelve and took him in soon-after. I understand it’s a similar story for Prince Richard.”

“He was nine,” Ric said softly. Even after so many years, it still hurt to think of his parents and the way their lives had been stolen.

Heavy silence settled over them.

“Your turn,” Sir Peter said after a minute.

Ric shook his head. “You didn’t really ask a question. It’s your turn.”

Sir Peter braced his hands on the ground behind him and leaned back slightly. “Does he like to read?”

“Less and less as he gets older. He did a lot of reading when King Bruce first took him in — uh, or so I’ve heard. He likes legends. The Emerald Archer. Nightwing and Flamebird. The Dark Knight. That sort of thing. What about Prince Jason? Is he a fan of books or is he more of the adventurous, rough-and-tumble type?” Ric asked.

There was a glimmer of amusement in Sir Peter’s sea-blue eyes. “His highness would live in the library if he were allowed to.”

And on they went. Simple, easy questions and answers that started to paint a vibrant portrait on each side.

Part of Ric felt guilty, in a way, that he was learning so much from someone who wasn’t his betrothed, but he couldn’t deny that it was helping to put him more at ease. He told himself it was worth the deception. Sir Peter would understand when Dick was ready to explain himself — and he would! — and Prince Jason would also get to hear about him from a trusted source. Surely, a few more days wouldn’t hurt.

As their conversation continued, the topic slowly shifted, drifting away from developing a better understanding between the royal pair and into something more mundane. Sir Peter referenced some of his own achievements and thoughts of the Kingdom of Gotham, and Ric responded in kind.

“It wouldn’t be bad at all except for my stalker,” Sir Peter said with a pointed look at the garden, where Sir Gordon Jr was still hanging around.

Ric frowned.

How odd.

It was possible that Captain Gordon assigned his son to keep watch over their guest, but it was typically a position that was made a bit more obvious. He should be sticking close and offering to show Sir Peter around or ask what security measures he needed put in place before the arrival of the royals of Nanda Parbat.

Ric would need to look into it and see if he could get someone else switched with the youngest Gordon. Someone a little friendlier. Roy, perhaps?

And if not…

“If you think you can put up with him for today, I might have an idea of how to help,” Ric told Sir Peter. “Meet me here tomorrow after breakfast. If you want to, that is.”

Sir Peter was just intrigued enough to agree.