Chapter Text
Mother only demanded something from Damian when it was a necessity. Damian tended to have a multitude of choices within the League. Between what form of fighting to practice, what magic to study that day, Damian was spoiled rotten with choices. Should Mother ask for something it had to be done. When Mother asked that Damian packed a bag, he did. When Mother asked that he board a plane, he did. When Mother asked him to get off the plane without her he did. When he found a note with an address and a name, he knew what his mother wanted of him, and did it.
His father was not pleased to find out that he had a child. There were many spells done to determine Damian’s paternity, each assuring his father that Damian was a Wayne . His father had… adopted … other children into his household. Almost all some sort of magic user, except for two familiars. Todd, whom Damian at least vaguely knew from the League, was clearly the head familiar. It is the head familiar’s job to aid magic users within the household, and delegate tasks to their subordinate familiars should the need arise. Father, a magic user, practiced very ceremonial magic, and seemed to want Damian to do the same. It would make sense that Father would choose to have his familiars act in the very formal and rigid roles, even though not all covens used this method.
(It was the best method. Damian saw it work well in the League. There was one head familiar, Talia, his mother, and many below her, and she ruled them well. When Damian was born, of a familiar and magic user’s blood, it was assumed that he would become a magic user. Damian was well educated in the difference between familiars (like his mother and Todd), and magic users (like his father and grandfather).)
Todd must often send Brown to Drake and Cain, as those two are who she aids the most. Todd has not delegated anyone to Damian. Which is very useful should one be hiding that they are not a magic user, hypothetically.
Whenever Father or Grayson ask to practice magic with Damian, to see what he has studied in the League, Damian manages to convince them to discuss theory, which is obviously the worst part of magical studies. Grayson seems to be convinced that Damian practices a type of magic that is embarrassing , which must be why they can’t do spells together . Whenever Damian is in his shifted form, out in nature, nowhere to be found, Grayson becomes convinced that Damian practices with dead bodies or something and is just scared to show Father.
Which brings Damian to right now, in his shifted form. It's truly an embarrassing form, almost worse than when he discovered he was a familiar. A domestic house cat . At least his mother was a sand cat , a felis margarita , and had the instincts of a wild animal. All Damian’s instincts told him was that he should play with laser pointers and other shiny things, and lounge in the sun. Which is what Damian was doing, spending some time outside during one of the few days that Gotham weather wasn’t a miserable hellscape. The trees nearby provided slight shade, allowing for Damian to lie in a grassy, somewhat sunny, patch. It was truly the best part of his day. Until Grayson showed up.
“Here kitty kitty kitty,” the buffoon crooned out. The stupidest man in Gotham glanced around for anything he could use to further persuade this random cat to come with him. “Um, would you like some warm milk?”
Damian blinked at the failure of Darwinism. He did not want warm milk, he wanted Grayson to leave him alone ! Damian raised his hackles, hissing. When this did not work, and only encouraged Grayson to reach out for him , Damian ran off, retreating. The general who advances without coveting fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do good service for his sovereign, is the jewel of the kingdom. Sun Tzu, or some other general Mother wanted him to read about.
Damian was the jewel of the kingdom, because he was able to retreat to the manor. He could not shift back yet, however, because Grayson was in his room calling out for him. The thought of shifting anywhere else in the manor was not only disgusting, it was dishonorable. Yet, Grayson would not leave . The moment he did, to wash up for family dinner, Damian was back in his room, transitioning as fast as he could, and sprinting down to the dinner table.
Dinner tonight included a garlic-lemon salmon, for good luck, prepared by Pennyworth, along with a lentil and tofu soup for Damian. While this was also prepared by Pennyworth, Damian was not sure if the hearth witch also infused magic within the soup. Conversations were stilted and boring, the worst being Drake asking if he could purchase a new, more caffeinated, tea as Father did his very best to stop the fool’s obsession with caffeine. It did not go well, as by the end of the night, Drake had negotiated himself into being allowed to purchase three pounds of loose leaf, along with a new milk steamer, and more honey. Damian did take the chance to ask for more painting supplies, and was awarded with being allowed to purchase a new set of gouache paints.
Grayson, at this point, asked Damian “What did you do today?”, and seemed almost vaguely interested. Despite Grayson not knowing that Damian had been the cat he had been chasing, Damian was annoyed at this, as they had spent a good portion of the day together .
“Painting,” came Damian’s short reply, as he bit down harshly on a tofu chunk. “I was working on a new piece. It was an enjoyable day.” At this, Grayson’s left eyebrow shot up.
“Where were you painting?”
Fuck
“In the gardens. The weather is pleasant.” At least Father looks vaguely pleased that Damian did not spend another day in his room, and was instead participating in a hobby.
Father stated, “I look forward to seeing the finished product, should you wish to show it to me.” Grayson still seemed not satisfied, but nothing else of interest happened that dinner. Drake and Grayson convinced Father that patrol should be moved an hour back, due to a late sunset, and Father agreed. Eventually, he dismissed all the coven members, and Damian sprinted up the stairs to begin stretching for patrol. He was the best Robin, he had to be the most prepared as well. The moment Damian entered his room, however, Grayson snuck out of wherever he had been hiding, and spoke:
“You’re lying.”