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eliemo · 2 years ago

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Reunion

A scene for my Medieval Royalty au because I've had non stop brain rot about it where Bruce and Dick reunite after almost a year of thinking the other is dead

Bruce followed Clark through the mud, the grass still damp with early morning dew, walking vigil at his side with a hand moving to over the hilt of his sword.

Clark glanced at his movement, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile, but he didn't say anything about it. The King was far too relaxed for his own good, especially out here unprotected, preparing to meet with a stranger.

“He’s not a stranger,” Clark had said, when Bruce had tried to persuade him to bring more men. “I had a perfectly nice conversation with him when he arrived last night. He just wants to meet for negotiations, I agreed to walk into town with him. He seems like a smart kid, I think he could be useful.”

Bruce had missed the traveler’s arrival last night, Clark granting him the day off when Tim had fallen ill, his fever spiking in the early morning. He was awake now, and he’d proven able to keep water down, so Bruce had left Jason in charge of the kids and insisted on accompanying Clark to meet with his new friend.

“A mysterious stranger shows up in your kingdom and wants to meet privately with the King to discuss the possibility of work and housing,” Bruce said. “He’s offering information on Queen that he couldn’t share with an audience. It’s suspicious and convenient.”

Someone familiar with Oliver’s kingdom also ran the risk of Bruce being recognized, another reason he wasn’t exactly eager to allow this stranger to stay inside the gates, let alone get anywhere near Clark.

On top of that, Clark had said they’d been traveling with a companion from the House Allen. He’d trusted Barry during his reign, his family were good people, but he wasn’t entirely convinced one of them recognizing him or his children wouldn’t spark some sort of conflict.

If they were at risk of capture they’d need to flee again, and none of them were in the place to be on the run right now. Not until Tim was fully recovered at the very least, and that could take weeks.

He caught Clark staring with a shameless grin, and Bruce scowled. “That’s how I met you, B. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

Bruce didn’t have an argument for that, scowl deepening as he followed Clark through the field, scanning the horizon for any signs of an ambush.

Their company didn’t keep them waiting, and Bruce’s guard rose immediately when he caught sight of two figures walking towards them in the distance, still small specks against the gray sky, the orange glow of early sunlight just barely illuminating their approach as it peeked up over the hills.

“Stay behind me,” Bruce instructed, coming to a halt as he waited for the travelers to approach. “We wait here.”

Clark ignored his command, as the stubborn King of Krypton often did, but he at least stopped walking when his knight did, coming to a gentle stop at Bruce’s side, their shoulders brushing.

“That’s him,” Clark said, raising his hand in greeting. “See? Everything’s fine.”

Bruce hummed under his breath, unimpressed, watching him smile out of the corner of his eye. Clark still didn’t seem to understand how to be a king, how to harness that untouchability, the power and nobility that came with a crown. He was too friendly, too approachable, too vulnerable. If Bruce didn’t know better, he’d mistake his King for a commoner. He needed to learn, or his reign would end the same way Bruce’s had.

Maybe, if the opportunity rose, Bruce would give him some pointers.

It was an impossible thought, opening up about that part of his life with Clark, trusting him with that knowledge. It could never happen.

It felt like a distant memory now, something far away and forever out of his reach.

It had caused him nothing but grief, anyway. And he knew Clark felt the same about his own place.

He could see the travelers better now, each of them guiding a horse by the reins, the animals trailing proudly behind them.

Something twisted in his gut when he recognized freckled skin and a mop of wind blown red hair. He hadn’t expected noble blood. He’d met Wally West a handful of times, and only in passing at the occasional meeting with his uncle, but Bruce never let himself forget a face, and a handful of brief meetings still ran the risk of his voice being recognized the moment he opened his mouth.

He squinted to make out the second man through the distance. He seemed to be about West’s age, taller, darker skin and black hair and…

Bruce’s heart dropped to his stomach.

He was pulling off his helmet before he even fully registered the decision, unmasking himself in the crisp morning air. He felt Clark stiffen beside him when he dropped it to the ground, saw the two approaching travelers falter and stare, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

“Bruce?”

Bruce ignored him and started forward, throat closing up tight until he couldn’t catch his breath, boots sinking into the mud as he dropped everything and ran, desperate, pushing to close the last of the distance in between them as fast as he possibly could.

And he was doing the same, running towards Bruce like a string had been cut, months of heartbreak and pain and grief laid out plainly for them both to see.

They met in the middle, skidding to a frantic stop in the mud, and Bruce pulled his son to his chest without another moment of hesitation.

Dick went willingly, melting against his armor, scrambling to cling to his back and bury his face into his chest. It was far from comfortable with the armor they were both wearing, especially ankle deep in the muddy grass, but Bruce didn’t care.

“Bruce?” Dick called, craning his neck and looking up at him with wide eyes, like there was still some doubt, like this was a trick or illusion. Bruce just held on tighter. “You’re…. you–”

“Are you alright?” Bruce demanded, pulling back just enough to scan Dick for injuries. He looked… exhausted. And older- painfully older. But he didn’t appear to be hurt. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?” Dick echoed, and Bruce couldn’t believe they were already arguing. He ignored it, reaching up to gently cup his missing child’s face. “I… Bruce you died, you all… I thought you–”

“I’m okay,” Bruce said, brushing overgrown hair out of Dick’s face with a silver glove. “I’m okay, Dick. We’re all okay.”

Dick froze, shiny brown eyes like saucers when he blinked up at him. Bruce had missed him more than he had words to express. “All of you?”

“All of us,” Bruce said. “We’re okay. We got out, Chum. We’re okay.”

He saw Dick’s face crumple, saw the weight of the world slide off his shoulders and was right there to catch him again when he slumped forward with a broken sob.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Dick’s back again and pulling him close. “I’m here now, it’s okay. It’s all okay now.”

He clutched at him like he was a child again, trembling in his hold, and Bruce was reminded with enough force to knock the wind right out of his chest that he still was. He’d barely been a man the last time Bruce had seen him, nearly a year ago now, and he didn’t even want to begin to imagine what this boy had been through these last months, alone and scared, with the weight of an entire family, an entire kingdom, ripped away from him the moment he’d had his back turned.

Dick squeezed him and Bruce allowed it, resting his chin atop his hair like he’d done so many times before. “I thought… I- I thought–”

“I know,” Bruce said. “We did too.”

It was nothing short of a miracle that Dick had been able to evade capture this long, with what felt like the whole world looking for him. He’d never given up hope, never stopped telling himself that Dick was alright, that he was surviving, that he was out there somewhere trying to make his way home. But he’d long ago accepted the cold truth that he’d never see him again.

And now here he was, back in Bruce’s arms. He supposed if anyone could manage it, it was Dick. Jason had been right, he was the best of them.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before Dick pulled back, Bruce reaching up to cup his cheek again, still marveling at the fact that this was real, that he had his family back together, whole and unharmed.

Dick’s gaze moved to something over Bruce’s shoulder, quickly stepping back out of his space, and Bruce was suddenly reminded that it wasn’t just the two of them, alone to reunite in the dawn.

Wally had his eyes on the ground, hands folded behind his back, sparing Dick a small glance and a smile, before briefly meeting Bruce’s eyes. He recognized him, then. And was decidedly not making a scene. Good.

He could feel Clark’s eyes on him, his confusion and questions bubbling to the surface, and Bruce stubbornly refused to look his way, itching to reach out and pull his son closer to his side.

They had a lot of catching up to do, assuming Clark allowed Dick the same protection he’d given Bruce and they got that chance.

He would. He had to. Nothing in the world could rip Bruce’s family away from him again.

“Your Majesty,” Dick greeted with a bow in Clark’s direction and Bruce stared straight ahead, trying not to count the seconds his son was out of his reach again. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Clark echoed, and Bruce could hear his insufferable smile. “I… see you’ve met, Bruce.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dick said slowly. He turned to Bruce, silently searching for permission. “We–”

“He’s my son,” Bruce said, for once allowing himself to speak without second guessing himself, facing Clark’s startled look head on. “My oldest.”

There was a hand on his shoulder, the King’s eyes going wide, and Bruce felt like the morning was holding its breath. He’d told Clark what he could, as scarce as he could manage, and he knew the questions and suspicions this could raise.

But right now it didn’t matter. Dick was alive, and he didn't have the energy to even try to hide that joy. They’d earned the right to celebrate their family being whole again, his heir coming back to him.

“I thought you said…” Clark trailed off, and Bruce let his relief and fading grief surface, like a book open for the King to read. His gaze softened, his hand squeezing Bruce’s shoulder before turning back to his guests. “Well, then. In that case, Krypton is honored to have you.”

Dick smiled, the tension in his shoulders dropping. “Thank you, sir.”

“Come on,” Clark said, stepping back in the direction he came and motioning for the others to follow. “We’ll walk and talk. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes,” Bruce agreed, falling back to walk alongside Dick as he led his horse through the mud, his smile the exact same as it had been when he was nine years old. Bruce had been terrified he’d never see it again. “We do.”

#batman #superman #nightwing #bruce wayne #clark kent #dick Grayson #dc #dc comics #au #medieval au #royalty au #writing #fan fiction

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