Baby Damian one-shots

The Shadow and the prince

Damian had been pestering Alfred all morning.

"Where is she?" he demanded for the fifth time, his little arms crossed over his chest. "You said she'd be here by now!"

"Miss Cain is punctual, Master Damian," Alfred replied calmly as he set down a tray of Damian's favorite tea biscuits. "She will arrive when she arrives."

Damian grumbled under his breath, pacing the living room. "Tt. I don't see why I must meet her. Father insists I interact with everyone in the family. What's next? Cousins I've never heard of?"

Before Alfred could reply, there was a soft sound—a faint shift of air. Damian froze.

"I heard that."

Cassandra Cain stepped into the room as silently as a shadow, her dark eyes watching Damian with quiet curiosity. She was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, but her presence still carried the weight of a seasoned fighter.

"Hello, Damian," she said softly, her voice gentle but firm.

Damian turned to face her, squaring his tiny shoulders like he was about to engage in a battle. "Cassandra Cain," he said formally. "Father speaks highly of you."

Cass tilted her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She said nothing, letting the silence hang.

Damian fidgeted, unused to someone who didn't immediately respond. "Well," he added, "I suppose I should observe your skills. Father says you're one of the best fighters in the world. But I'll be the judge of that."

Cass blinked, her smile growing slightly. She crouched down to Damian's eye level, studying him carefully. "You're small," she finally said, her voice teasing.

Damian bristled. "I'm three!" he snapped. "What's your excuse for being so quiet?"

Cass raised an eyebrow and tapped her lips, clearly amused.

Damian narrowed his eyes. "Tt. Fine. Be mysterious. But don't think you can outmatch me."

Cassandra stood and extended her hand. "Come."

Damian stared at her hand, suspicious. "Where?"

She didn't answer, only wiggled her fingers in a gesture that said, Trust me.

After a moment's hesitation, Damian huffed and placed his tiny hand in hers.

She led him outside to the training yard, where a few practice dummies stood. Damian looked up at her, unimpressed.

"What is this? I don't need help with my combat skills."

Cass didn't reply. Instead, she picked up a foam sword from the rack and handed it to him. Then she grabbed one for herself, taking a stance.

"You want me to fight you?" Damian asked, his brows furrowing.

Cass nodded.

A sly grin spread across Damian's face. "Very well. Don't hold back."

The duel lasted less than ten seconds.

Cass disarmed Damian with such speed and precision that he barely had time to register what had happened. His foam sword clattered to the ground, and he stood there, wide-eyed and speechless.

For once, he had no retort.

Cass crouched down again, ruffling his hair lightly. "Good effort," she said with a smirk.

Damian scowled, crossing his arms. "You cheated. Somehow."

Cass shook her head, laughing softly. She grabbed his foam sword and handed it back to him.

"Again," she said simply.

Damian's eyes lit up with determination. He picked up the sword and lunged at her, only to be disarmed again—this time even faster.

The pattern repeated for the next half hour. Damian tried every strategy he could think of, but Cassandra remained a step ahead. Each time, she patiently handed the sword back to him, urging him to try again.

By the end, Damian was sweaty, panting, and frustrated—but also exhilarated.

"You're incredible," he admitted grudgingly, collapsing onto the grass. "Father was right."

Cass sat beside him, her quiet smile as warm as the afternoon sun. "You're good," she said simply. "For your age."

Damian glanced at her, his pride slightly restored. "Of course I am."

After a moment of silence, he added, "You're... not bad to have around. For an older sibling."

Cass chuckled softly, ruffling his hair again. "You'll be great one day," she said. "Promise."

Damian blinked up at her, surprised by the genuine warmth in her voice. Then, slowly, he nodded.

From that day forward, Cassandra became one of the few people Damian respected—and perhaps even liked. Though he'd never admit it out loud.