Robin one shot part 3!

I'm just a circus boy sire

Listen there is a lot of historical inaccuracies here - including the fact that the flying Graysons can't fly until the 1930s (i think?) and a circus itself wasn't termed until the 1700s yet was thought to originate in some way in the roman times - BUT this is fanfic at the end of the day and if you were expecting realistic historical events I'm sorry but you're going to leave disappointed

EDIT: TW BLOOD// FLYING GRAYSON DEATH

It was performing night tonight and Dick had heard from the strongman that the King of Gotham was going to be there. The little boy had to share the news with his parents and ran through the bustling circus grounds to find them. To anyone else, he'd be blindly running through crowds of people but he knew where he was going and he knew everyone here by name. He handsprings and backflipped out of the way of fellow performers who were putting the finishing touches up and waved to the odd few he caught eyes with. They'd wave back with smiles and go about their day. He had one big family here and he loved it. If one was busy, another wasn't, so he always had someone to spend time with outside of practice. He vaulted over the bench two of the strong women were carrying, gaining laughs from the pair of them, and ran into the circus tent. He instantly spotted both his mother and his father along with Mr Haley but there was another three there. He hadn't seen those three before and he knew everyone. Dick paused and waited on the outskirts of the centre circle with a curious look. None of the three he knew looked very happy with these new people. "We're not paying! The king himself has invited us here and has not told us of any occupying fee," Mr Haley argued. 

"We're not with the king. You entered Gotham and we have more control of this place than that figurehead," the middle man spoke. He had one foggy eye and his hair was beginning to grey. He wore fancy-looking clothes so he must be rather rich which made Dick wonder why he was pressuring the circus for money. Surely he had his own. "I suggest you leave. I'm in the right mind to kick you out myself," John spoke sternly.

"Oh? Is that a threat Mr Grayson?" 

"It's a promise. We've dealt with ruffians such as yourself before. Don't think just because we're circus folk that we are fools," he snapped. The main man chuckled and his two men stepped forward but he put a hand up to halt them.

"Have your way. I will be paid, you can have my word." On that note, he turned and walked away, passing Dick on his way out. He leered at the boy and bent down a little to speak with him. "Good luck. You'll need it." Then he walked away, his two men following. Dick felt a shiver go down his spine and ran over to his parents. His mother opened her arms and he ran into them so she could pick him up. She place him on her hip and kissed his forehead. "Don't mind him little one. He's just like all the others. All talk and no action."

"I hope so Mama. He sounded really scary."

"Your father and I will protect you so no need to fret. Let's go practice shall we?"

From that point forth, Dick couldn't help but think about the man. He'd asked Mr Haley about who he was but was only told he was bad man. The circus had been approached by these types of people before and his mother always said they never did anything but he knew they did. He noticed the limp some of the strong men had and how some of their animals who'd previously been incredibly healthy suddenly died. He wondered what would be their punishment since this man had looked much fancier than the other aggressors. What if he accused one of them of witchcraft? Magicians already walked a fine line and it wouldn't be too hard to accuse them of such things. A few items placed here and there and boom! They're on the stake with fire at the feet faster than you can say i was framed. He never got why people didn't like witches. One had joined the circus briefly and she was rather kind. He couldn't remember when she left. He just woke up one day and she wasn't there. The thought of the fancy aggressor followed Dick to the point when he was getting changed into his suit when he noticed a man, one that had been with their recent bully earlier, sneak out the other side of the tent. He raised an eyebrow at him and turned to his parents who'd been none the wiser to his presence. Yet when he went to tell them, a group of other performers had caught them in conversation. He shrugged to himself. It was probably nothing anyway. 

It was something.

Everything was wrong. No this couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now. This was never supposed to happen. People checked the ropes. People checked ropes five times over. The people checking them always promised him the same thing. They promised his parents wouldn't fall. They couldn't fall. They were the Flying Graysons and everything was supposed to be perfect but tonight it wasn't. Dick felt numb. He screamed but he couldn't hear himself. His scream had been lost within the crowd's collective screams of panic. They rushed and ran, trying to leave and get away from the scene. No doubt the King's guards were quickly shoving him into some carriage and then he'd leave. Up to his castle. Dick couldn't leave like that. He couldn't shake his head and think "oh such a poor kid" because he was that poor kid. He had to stay. He stared at his parents. Crushed and bloodied. He'd had nightmares of this happening. Of the rope snapping and his parents plunging down to their deaths. His imagination could never conjure something like this. The way his parents frantically flailed their limbs in hopes of catching onto something. The panic in their eyes as they stared at him then at one other. He'd never get that image out of his head. There's a commanding voice off in the distance somewhere but he couldn't catch what it was actually saying. Just that it sounded strong and firm. Dick choked on a sob as his knees gave out. He wanted to look away but he just couldn't. Maybe if he kept staring they'd get back up? No that was impossible. He called their names. They fell on dead ears. He hardly noticed the feeling of his nails digging into the palms of his hands, tearing the skin and letting the blood drip onto the platform. The platform. He should go down there. He needed to go down there. What did his mum always say? Kisses make it better? There'd be a lot of kisses to fix this mess. Maybe he could just ask them to get up? No. He knew what this was. He knew they were dead. He knew it. He felt something being ripped from him, something that could only be described as a severing of connections. His parents fell and what had connected them had snapped. 

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. It was strong and the hand took up his entire shoulder. That wasn't hard to do. He was only small. Small and frail. He turned his head slightly to show he'd acknowledged it but he refused to take his eyes from the bloody mess. "I'm so sorry," a voice stated. Dick didn't know that voice and he knew everyone's voice. The voice was foreign to him. He jumped and moved away, almost falling as his parents had. He stared at the person. A man. He had blue eyes, dark black hair and pale skin. He wore clothes that looked like they were worth more than Dick's life. More than everyone in the circus' life. He gulped. A rich man. No rich men were dangerous. They tried to take everything from them, they took the little money they had and would fight anyone who begged to stop. "S-Stay away from me!" 

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you. I want to get you down from here. It's dangerous, is it not?"

"You are too! Your kind killed them!" he shrieked, tears running down his cheeks thickly. The man stared at him in concern. 

"My kind have done no such thing. I'm the only royal here." Dick gulped, a sense of dread taking over him and drawing any colour that had been left over away from his face. He felt sick. He could feel the bile rising. He, a measly peasant child, had just raised his voice at a royal. This was it. Not only were his parents dead but he'd be soon to join them. He'd be beheaded for being so rude. He'd be pulled apart by horses. Death may be the only good place for him now though. The circus wouldn't be able to keep him. There was no money in him. The older seemed to notice his realisation and was quick to deter him from thinking further. "It's okay, child. You had no way of knowing and I won't place judgement upon you after what you have seen." He held out his hand. "How about you come with me? Your parents died trying to entertain my kingdom's people and me. As King, it is only fair I repay the debt to them by caring for you."

"I'm just a circus boy sire."

"A circus boy who I share an unfortunate experience with. I too lost my parents and I too witnessed their deaths. Please, come with me and I will do what I can to make you happy." Dick gulped and shakily took the man's hand, finding some comfort in how it wrapped around him. "What's your name child?"

"Richard sire. Many call me Dick for short."

"Dick it is."