The Boy in Black

Let all Broken Pieces Shatter

Scene 1: Talia

Talia never felt more exhausted. At first she thought nothing of it, she simply reasoned it away as too many late nights catching up to her. After all, she hadn't exactly spent the last six months sleeping alone. However, in the last week or so, the fatigue increased, making it difficult to get out of bed. Stranger was her lack of appetite and inability to concentrate.

She remained in bed that morning, an hour longer than was appropriate. Her chambermaid, Anya, attempted to wake her frequently, but Talia couldn't seem to shake her grogginess.

"I know you're upset about Mr. Wayne's departure, but I'm afraid you need to get out of bed," the young maid said. "Your father calls for you. He's losing patience." She'd said nothing over the last few months, though she was more than aware of Talia's ritual: each night waiting until the halls fell quiet, then meeting the handsome American at the door outside her chambers to let him in. She could recall that first morning she'd caught them, or rather Talia. The man in question had left; Mr. Wayne was discreet, which Anya appreciated. Whereas Talia was shameless and hardly tried to hide the evidence of their nightly activities: Asleep in her bed, disrobed as her nightdress was carelessly thrown across the floor. Among other things . At first the scene would leave Anya's face red with second hand embarrassment, but over time she became accustomed to it: expect it even. Worse, however, was that she understood? Talia's life was destined to be a lonely one; she couldn't blame her for seeking companionship with a handsome older man. Even if he was always destined to break her heart.

Talia groaned incoherently for what was maybe the fourth time and mumbled that she was awake. She sluggishly rose from the bed. The chambermaid sighing in relief when she witnessed her charge collapse at her bedside.

"Talia!" Anya cried and rushed to her side.

"I'm fine, Anya," Talia murmured, still exhausted. "I've just been training too much..." She had to do something to keep her mind off her now empty bed. Typically, training kept the melancholy at bay, but not recently. She was too distracted and sloppy, traits that were not typical of her.

"I don't want to pry, your Grace, but..."

"But what, Anya?" Talia snapped.

The maid, closing her eyes, replied cautiously, "Have you missed any cycles?"

At first Talia's face appeared annoyed: Anya had a tendency to worry too much, but her loyalty and tight lips made her invaluable. However, as Talia considered her question, she not only realized its potency, but felt rather stupid.

"Two..."

"Then it appears Mr. Wayne has left you with a parting gift, your Grace," Anya replied, ironically. "What will we tell your father?"

"Nothing," Talia said, wide eyed, still in disbelief. "We can't tell him anything."

Talia pulled herself from the memory as she lay in bed alone, something she'd been doing a lot lately: remembering. It had been one week since she'd gotten the news, and she'd never felt emptier. For all the men she loved and kings she killed, losing her son hit her harder than she ever could have imagined.

"Darling, I have some bad news. You're not going to like it."

She could tell by the sound of Slade's voice that something was not right, and geared up for the worst. "What happened—is Damian alright?"

Slade took a deep breath, preparing himself for the coming storm: he knew what it was like to lose a child, even if it were for the best. "I'm afraid not... there was... an incident."