NO CELESTIAL / dick grayson

twenty-eight, for the throne

THEY DIDN'T NEED to talk to know what each other was thinking. Perhaps it was their usual reliance on comms, but that struck Remiel as strange. She hadn't worked much with Dick on missions over the years, truthfully, and while she did train Damian, rarely had they worked on the field together.

Dick and Damian had been cooperating for a year, but that wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. Yet they were a well-oiled machine as they crept their way up the mountain shortly after three a.m. in the morning. Yu Lan was left behind. They didn't want to rope her in just yet. If this all fell apart, if somehow things went truly south, Yu Lan would not be involved.

They'd made it to the outer perimeter of the manor together, hiding together in the foliage. The security truly was terrible. Yu Lan had noted the three guards on duty tonight: none of the three were even qi users. All three were relatively newer recruits, put on this as a form of practice. No one in the sect thought their job actually mattered.

But at the same time, their own plan was borderline nonexistent. They hadn't had time to properly scout out this place. They had no blueprints of the house. They only knew what Yu Lan and Damian had discovered this morning.

They glanced at each other. Nodded.

They'd completed riskier missions on less information than this.

Damian slinked off into the darkness. A moment later, they heard the sound of leaves rustling from the other side. Commotion. Remiel watched, carefully, as one of the guards glanced over. He headed in that direction, but wholly unconcerned. On his tail was a rather large hound. A wolfdog. Most likely, he thought it was some wild animal making a racket.

That left two. Best if neither were alerted. Worst case scenario, they tied them up too in the cave. But that was annoying. There were only two of them. And if one guard went missing, the others would notice. All three would have to be dealt with.

They waited until the remaining outside guard had made his round to the other side of the mansion. The walls were only one-floor high, and Remiel easily lifted herself up with a qi amplified jump. Dick scaled up the walls, with Remiel giving him a hand at the end. They crouched on the roof of the east room of the house, studying the interior.

The guard wasn't in the middle, the exposed, open area, which was simultaneously good and bad. There was only one room with a lit candle, on the side of the main room. That would be where her uncle was resting. But it meant the guard was too close by.

They had to get him away.

But Damian was off god knew where now. They needed another distraction.

Remiel motioned to the room. Dick immediately understood..

They split up. Remiel headed to the bedroom, creeping on the rooftop until she was standing above one of the windows, trying to see if any had been left open. The guard was just taking a turn. She had around three minutes before he made the round back.

She couldn't go in from the windows. All were shut. If she broke them, the guard would notice, and he'd alert the others. No, she had to find a different way in.

Remiel would have to walk in from the front door. She couldn't spot any immediate second entrances.

She had to wait until Dick got rid of the other guard. At least lure him out, leave her with a moment to be able to sneak in. But then she'd have to figure a way to bring her uncle out.

Dick's distraction, in the end, was the oldest trick in the book. Remiel watched, slightly amused, as the main door of the house suddenly creaked open, being rather loud about it. Loud enough that all the guards would notice. They'd assume it was the wind, rather than figures hiding in the shadows, because it was the easier explanation.