Chapter Text
— W A Y N E M A N O R —
The crescent moon was weak. The night’s soft smirk was useless against the shadows that slithered across the magnificent lawn. Blood-red skies were the only true light left; the death of the day.
Raven’s fingers trailed along the cool stone step. It was smooth; marble, not concrete. Knowing Alfred Pennyworth, the steps were probably clean enough to eat on, let alone sit on.
Warm gold light pooled across the steps as the doors creaked open. A shadow crept across the stone.
“Are you nervous?” the shadow asked. The voice was soft and deep. It’s usual demanding undertone was gone.
He sat down on the step beside her. Pine filled the air. Their knees brushed together. A small, delightful tremor ran through her body at the slightest touch.
His hand sought hers, quick to envelope it in warmth.
Raven shrugged, “A little, I suppose.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of.”
“You think I’m concerned for myself?” Raven met his emerald gaze. The green was darker in the dim light, its depths fathomless.
“I’ve met Constantine before,” he said.
Raven looked back at the dying sky. The blood was seeping away, fading to black. The birth of the night. Dread pooled in her stomach. Constantine had made his feelings clear before tonight.
‘He’s a menace! Everything that comes out of his mouth is an insult or a critique. He doesn't know the first thing about putting someone before himself.
‘I don't approve, love.’
His hand squeezing her made Raven look back.
“We don't have to do this if you don't want to,” he said.
Raven was shaking her head before he finished his sentence. “No. You’ve wanted to do this since we left. Besides, your mom is a part of your life.”
If Raven canceled, she feared that would send the wrong message. Looking cowardly wasn't her concern. Raven would not come between Talia al Ghul and her only son.
The heavy double doors opened once more. Alfred cleared his throat, “Master Wayne, Miss Roth, it's time.”
They stood as the butler added, “Last chance to run for the hills if need be.”
“Is that what you recommend, Alfred?” Raven smiled.
“I certainly would if I were you, Miss Roth.”
“Not funny, Pennyworth.” The stark utter beside Raven made Alfred chuckle.
They climbed the steps together. Light from inside chased the remnants of the night away. A hand stretched out towards Raven as she hesitated at the door.
“Ready to meet my parents?” Damian said.
Raven’s fingers slipped back into his, where they belonged. “As long as you can take mine.”
“Please. Zatanna’s infatuated with me,” Damian rolled his eyes.
“And King Shark still thinks you taste delicious,” she added.
“I prefer to keep that kind of commentary between us and no one else.”
They passed Alfred at the door and slipped inside. Raven didn't miss how the butler’s eyebrows were raised to his hairline.
Everyone had a baffled look on their faces recently. Raven always assumed it was because of her and her weirdness. Nowadays, she couldn't tell who the stare was meant for.
Damian’s hand held hers as they walked. The old-fashioned oil lamps along the walls filled the great entrance hall with warmth. Damian’s skin shone like bronze in the golden glow. He walked without the slightest hesitation; he didn't fear whatever the evening held.
“Depending on how the evening goes, I’ll tell them to do a closed casket,” Dick Grayson’s voice traveled across the parlor.
Dick stood at the bottom of the elegant staircase. Raven’s eyes started to travel down to Dick’s arm in a sling — she forced herself to look away. She focused on Koriand’r instead, who towered over Dick and everyone else. Kory’s great mane of curls shimmered like hungry flames as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
“I’m so happy for you! Meeting the parents is quite a show of intimacy, I’ve heard,” said Kory, clasping her hands together. Her tone made it sound like a compliment.
“Yeah, got that right,” Dick muttered. He shot what almost seemed like a questioning look at Damian.
Raven glanced at her shoes. She knew it was sudden. It had only been a week since they had returned from Europe. They stayed at Wayne Manor ever since.
In terms of gossip, a scandal probably lurked around the corner. But it was Batman’s family. As famous as they were, Bruce Wayne liked privacy. He kept to himself.
Catwoman was a different story.
“I’m truly joyful that you both have this,” Kory beamed at Raven and Damian. Her glowing green eyes settled on Raven, “and I’m happy we have more ties to one another. That we’ll always be connected…”
If we’re not connected by the Titans, Raven finished her sentence silently. Raven still hadn't forgotten the conversation Kory and Zatanna had in her head about whether the Titans were a good fit for Raven. Or, rather, if Raven was a good fit for them .
“You’ll have to tell me how tonight goes at our next double date!” Kory said. “Maybe we’ll get fondue…? I’ve heard mini-golf is a popular pastime!”
Dick stifled a laugh as Damian’s face froze with horror, “That sounds like a great idea, babe.”
Alfred cleared his throat. “Miss Roth? Your death awaits — ahem , excuse me. I have a toad in my throat. Your dinner party awaits.”
Damian glared at the butler.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Raven said. She resisted the urge for her lips to curve up and failed.
They followed Alfred down a gothic-style corridor. The scent of expensive wood polish and old-fashioned oil lamps simmered in the air.
Alfred slowed his pace, lingering at Raven’s unoccupied side. His voice dropped to a murmur, “If, by some particular matter, you must leave early tonight due to unforeseen difficulties, I have arranged a rope outside the far right window of the room, for a quick departure.”
“Pennyworth!”
“All in jest, little master, all in jest,” Alfred raised a gloved hand to cover his mouth from Damian’s sight and mouthed the words, no it's not .
“You know I can teleport, right?” said Raven.
“Yes. And Mr. Wayne is Batman. And I punched Superman in the face. We all have our talents, Miss Roth. But it’s best to have backup plans.” Alfred faced forward after that, resuming his quick pace ahead.
Raven glanced at Damian. He frowned at the butler’s back.
“You pay him enough, right?” she asked.
“I have my own townhouse in Paris,” Alfred said.
Damian sighed.
They reached the double doors to their doom — the dining room (Alfred’s commentary was wearing off on her). The butler paused at the entrance, casting one last pointed look at Raven.
“Open the door, Pennyworth,” Damian said.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”
“That's three, little master. Not one.”
It took all of Raven’s willpower not to laugh on the spot. She squeezed Damian’s hand, feeling his deep urge to not obey Alfred.
So stubborn . Raven turned away from Alfred. She leaned up on her toes and whispered in Damian’s ear, “You know I’ll still find you attractive if you're nice to him.”
The deep force of opposition emitted from him wavered, but it was still intact.
“I could show you how attractive I think you are…later,” her lips brushed against the bottom of his earlobe, “if you behave.”
“Please,” Damian blurted the word.
Raven sank back onto her heels. When she faced Alfred, he was staring at her like he had just witnessed divine interference.
“You truly are magical, Miss Roth.”
“I know.”
Alfred bowed his head. “I hope you survive. You’d make an interesting addition to this family.”
He turned away and threw the double doors open wide.
Dining room was a modest description. Dining hall fit better. A long table was stretched beneath a massive map of Gotham on the high ceilings. Long enough to house all of the children Bruce Wayne had adopted.
Three were already seated at the table.
Raven let Damian lead as she took them in. Bruce and Selina Kyle sat side by side along the edge. Selina’s gaze trickled down Raven. It always lingered at the gem embedded to her forehead, which Raven tried to hide lately with bangs. Her eyes sliced across the rest of her, as if preparing quips critiquing her fashion choice and goth tendencies.
Raven’s eyes shifted to the head of the table, where an even more penetrating stare cut across the room.
“My son,” Talia al Ghul rose like the night seeping up to embrace the moon. She moved across the room swifter than a light breeze towards Damian.
Raven stood awkwardly to the side as Talia enveloped him in a warm embrace. She stared over his shoulder at Raven.
“Hi,” Raven said.
Talia parted from Damian and stood before her. Gorgeous didn't begin to do her justice. Models would’ve felt self-conscious in Talia’s wake, dressed in a green gown perfect for a red carpet appearance. Familiar bronze skin shone beneath the chandelier, completely scarless. The Lazarus Pit’s work, no doubt.
“So,” Talia’s eyes, a shade of green Raven knew well, seared into her. “You’re the demon girl.”