Chapter Text
Damian watched as Donna cut through a blast of freezing air, not stopping in her charge forward. The sword in her hands turned ice to steam, opening a clear path for her to leap at Freeze.
Without a doubt, the woman would slay him if given the chance. The thought ran like ice through Damian’s veins. Not for Freeze, but for the sheer ferocity of the Amazon’s battle prowess. He would be sure to never get on her bad side, no matter how large he eventually grew to be. There would be no mercy for someone she saw as evil.
He did not have long to watch the battle. The moment Freeze moved away from the cave entrance enough for them to fit though, Wallace had them out it in a blur of motion and air.
He did not stop after they had exited the cave. They continued, past the horses and down the winding path they had picked their way through. Damian gripped Richard’s tunic as tightly as he could against the movement.
When he had been carried earlier, up to the air tunnel Damian had entered the cave from, Damian had been slightly disoriented by the speed. Now? He felt as if he could not breathe. As if he did not have the time for it. Air seemed to warp around them, or perhaps it was Wallace who warped.
Damian glanced away from his brother’s tunic and saw white, with dotted green and blue, blurring past them, everything encased in fog. The fog twisted and wrapped, like a tornado or clouds manipulated by a skilled magician.
Wallace’s face was red, his freckles almost blending in with the color. His jaw was set in concentration. Damian remembered then that the sylph was not normally corporeal when he ran. It took focus, and even more energy for the man to stay solid as he used his powers. Damian could not imagine the strain of carrying someone as heavy as Richard all the way back to the castle.
However, he did not ask him to stop. Both of them were aware of Richard’s imminent danger. Any wasted time could spell death for him. If their places were swapped, Damian would run himself to death for Richard. There would be no need to ask Wallace if he would do the same. He had not hesitated or stopped running since he lifted Richard.
Even with the speed, and air rushing past them, it felt like an eternity before they reached the castle.
Wallace blew past the front doors, and guards, and crashed into the huge front hall, coming at last to a stop. People immediately crowded them, pressing in as guards pushed past staff, anger in their voices.
“I’ve brought the princes,” Wallace breathed, “Dick, he--he needs help. Bring medical aid now.”
When the guards seemed to hesitate, Damian raised himself from where he was pressed close to his brother and growled, “Listen to him!” he snapped, voice sparking, “Get Pennyworth here, now! Someone start a fire for Richard!”
The guards began moving all at once, some pushing gawkers back, someone else sending a page to find healer Tompkins, and another to find Alfred. One man lifted Richard out of Wallace’s arms, while someone else helped the sylph to stand.
“Get him food and water.” Pennyworth’s voice commanded as he stepped into view.
The guard carrying Wallace nodded and helped lead him from the room.
“He needs a fire.” Damian said, as Pennyworth approached them, “A powerful freezing spell was put on him. I--I am not sure of the extent of the damage.”
Pennyworth took this in stride, and began ordering a fire set in the infirmary, and called for all available blankets and pelts to be brought there as well. Damian allowed his voice to pass over him as he pressed his face closer to Richard’s chest, confident that his brother would be cared for with as much skill as possible.
It was his job now to continue to protect his brother’s heart. He focused on his flame, doing his best to warm himself inside so he could be as hot as possible.
They were set on a cot at last, and Pennyworth began to examine Richard more closely, hands hovering over the man, opening an eyelid, fingers pressing to check his pulse. Damian’s heart stuttered as Richard breathed another puff of cold air. It looked like the whisp of a cloud. Damian had thought that the fogged breath had been from the temperature of Freeze’s cave, but that did not seem to be the case. Whatever this was, it had to have been from the spell.
Pennyworth reached out to move Damian and he snapped at the man.
“I need to examine his chest, he will not die without you there for a few minutes.”
Damian hesitated for a moment longer. Pennyworth would not lie, but this was Richard. His life was at stake. From what Damian had seen of the spell cast, it was powerful, and that frightened him. Richard frightened him. His pale features, and the way he was hardly comprehensible.
He did not know what to do.
Pennyworth made to lift him, and Damian allowed it. He had to. By the same token that this was Richard, and he was afraid, this was also Pennyworth. He knew what he was doing. He was an expert, and if anyone could save his brother it would be him.
He was placed on a table close by, but that wouldn’t do. Before Pennyworth could do anything more, he scrambled up the man’s arm to perch atop his shoulder. This way he could see and monitor what was going on.
Damian tried to keep his grip loose on Pennyworth’s shoulder as he watched the man cut into Richard’s shirt. He wanted to squeeze tightly, wanted to grip something with such force it bled, or to tear apart anything. Even a pillow, with it’s shower of downy feathers might help ease the tight knot in his stomach.
If Pennyworth’s diagnosis was bad, Damian wasn’t sure how he would react. He wanted to hear that he was wrong. That whatever was afflicting Ricahrd was easily reversible. That Damian was worried for nothing.
Pennyworth peeled back Richard’s shirt. Damian felt his gasp more than heard it, the man’s entire body went rigid seeing Richard’s chest.
His veins swelled in an ugly blue and black mess of lines. They looked painful, pressed tightly up against Richard’s skin as if they would burst at any second, revealing sluggish half frozen blood. Each one seemed to be snaking its way towards Richard’s heart, poised to strike with a freezing blow.
Damian felt as if his flame had been snuffed and replaced by a rolling mass of smoke. He wanted to throw up, like when he had been terribly ill months ago, vomiting clouds of black and ash. Richard was far worse than he had imagined.
“Heartfreeze.” the word was a breath on Pennyworth’s lips.
Richard pushed himself up enough to blink blearily at the blue and black crisscrossing across his chest, “Ah. Yeah.” he wheezed, voice scratched with ice.
Alfred reached out and laid him back down.
Damian hopped down from his place on Pennyworth’s shoulder to land atop the cot and lock eyes with his brother, “You will be fine.” he said, “Pennyworth will break the spell and you will recover.”
Behind him, Pennyworth was barking orders to have different supplies brought in. Damian heard requests for different warming components and various specialized spell components.
Richard’s attention slipped away from Damian and went distant, “I’m going to die.” he whispered, “I’m...dying.”
“I will not have you speaking that way.” Alfred was by his side again, a hand running through his hair, “Have you so little faith in me?”
Richard whined, and shivered, moving to curl in on himself. Pennyworth drew heavy blankets up and over him, brushing his hair back again, “My dear boy, worry not. You will be warm again soon.”
He turned his attention down to Damian, who’d scurried out of the way of the blankets, “Master Damian, I believe you can return to your post close to his chest, your heat will do great things to help him.”
Damian nodded, and burrowed under the blankets until he found Richard’s exposed chest. It was freezing to the touch, the cold seeping into the pads of Damian’s feet. He moved to settle down and restart the process of keeping him warm, but Richard’s hands began to push at him, shoving in an attempt to dislodge Damian.
Richard looked with wide, watery eyes, to Pennyworth, “No. No. I don’t want him here. He needs to go, Al. He can’t...he’s my brother.”
Damian grit his teeth and held firm against Richard’s too weak attempts at moving him. Richard had said goodbye to him in the cave. He had thought he had been dead then. And now he was trying to get Damian to leave. He didn’t want Damian to see him die, didn’t want his brother there with him. He could understand the desire, Richard did not want Damian’s last memory of him to be his death.
But Damian could not accept the idea that he was going to lose his brother. He didn’t even want to humor it, the thought alone hurt too much. And Richard had already given in. Damian squeezed his eyes even more against hot tears, Richard did not trust them to save him.
“Shush,” Pennyworth chided him, “If you want any chance at surviving you will need your brother as close as possible. His heat is keeping you alive until I can break the spell.”
Damian nodded, “I refuse to leave you. I will not let you die, Richard.”
His brother seemed to give up the fight after this, letting his head flop back against the pillows under it. Damian took his chance to settle firmly on Richard’s chest, shifting so the warmest part of his belly was directed over his heart.
Wallace stepped into the room. His face was almost as pale as Richard’s, “How’s he doing?”
“Not well, I am afraid.” Pennyworth answered, “He will be fine after I’ve managed to give him the counter spell, but I am waiting on ingredients.”
“What do you need?” Wallace’s voice was desperate, “I’ll get it.”
Pennyworth rattled off a few ingredients he had not yet asked for and Wallace was a blur again. Back and forth the man ran, collecting everything Pennyworth needed, even the things he’d sent others away for and was still waiting on.
Damian’s attention was so focused on Richard’s health he didn’t notice much beyond the sound of Wallace’s coming and going. Damian was keeping track of the feel of Richard’s heart beneath him, and the steadiness of his breathing. The chill beneath him had eased some with his presence, a sign Damian took as good. He was also watching Pennyworth as the man cast warming spells in the air and began working with some of the ingredients he’d been brought.
“I’ve got--” Wallace’s voice dropped off in the middle of his sentence.
Damian and Pennyworth looked up to watch as Wallace’s eyes rolled back, and his legs gave out. Pennyworth managed to catch him, and the small jar that fell from Wallace’s hand. Damian wanted to help, but he was not moving from Richard’s chest until he was sure the curse had been broken. The sylph would understand that.
Pennyworth helped steady Wallace, who woke after a moment, his face paled to the point Richard’s was. It took a few moments, but he pulled away from Pennyworth’s hold and stood on his own.
“Go, rest. You will do him no good if you kill yourself doing a task another could. I have most of what I need now.” Pennyworth said, voice gentle, “I’ll call you back in when he’s stable.”
Wallace left as a woman came in, carrying the final basket of supplies Pennyworth had requested. He began pulling components out of it, laying them across the table Damian had vacated, searching for something.
“Where are the scales?”
“We are out, sir.” the woman answered, apologetic.
Damian watched Pennyworth’s face, watched the dawning realization there, this seemed to be a key component.
“What scales?”
“Fire dragon.” Pennyworth said, distracted, looking over his collection of materials.
“How many do you need?” Damian said, scrambling up from Richard’s chest, “Pennyworth!” he demanded again, hopping onto the table beside the man.
Pennyworth looked at him, “A handful to start. They are a key to countering a frost dragon’s spell.”
Damian scratched across his injured leg, flecking already loosened scales onto the table in little clinks. He did it again, and again until he’d managed to knock off everything already loose. Pennyworth scooped them up and frowned.
“You may take more.” Damian said, “You have surgical tweezers strong enough to pull the scales? Or do you need me to pluck them?”
Pennyworth nodded, “I have the tweezers, are you quite sure?”
Damian set his feet on the table and gave Pennyworth the most defiant, determined look he could muster as his answer. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Richard. Pennyworth should know that.
“Of course.” Pennyworth relented.
Damian curled up in a way that made it easier for the tweezers to catch his scales. He locked his eyes on Richard and focused on his brother while the rest of the required scales were extracted. It was more gentle than the last time Damian had experienced scales pulled from his body, but each one being plucked was still painful.
It was fine. The pain meant that Pennyworth could create a counter spell, and Richard would live. He bit back a yelp as one scale pulled out sharper than the others. Tears pricked his eyes.
He would not cry. Crying meant he was admitting that Richard might die. It meant he was giving into weakness. He wouldn’t. Could not. He would keep Richard alive by sure force of will if he had to.
When Pennyworth was done, he offered to prepare a soothing cream for Damian’s stinging skin. He refused it with a shake of his head, he did not wish to waste any time in returning to his post preventing the ice from killing his brother.
“Perhaps when Richard is stable.”
Damian curled again against his brother’s chest, pressing as close to his heart as he could. He was achy and exhausted, the events of the day draining him. Tired or not, Damian tried to keep himself as warm as possible. He wished, his eyes heavy, that him being there would be enough to melt the ice in Richard’s blood. He closed his eyes and pictured it. As he imagined his fire coursing through icy veins he drifted off, dreaming that when he woke everything would be fine.
Donna ducked out of the way of a clumsy spell thrown by Freeze and ice scattered across the floor behind her. They had been locked in battle long enough now that she was confident Wallace had carried her best friend to safety. Freeze was starting to show signs of tiring. She wished to put an end to things sooner, rather than later as well, to fight a dragon such as this was no easy task.
She hoisted her sword, still burning brightly, and stepped in a circle mirroring Freeze’s movements. The fire crackling off the blade was warm against her skin, tickling it with the promise of victory. The blade was comfortable in her palms. The weight reassuring. As if it had been created for such an event. Her throat tightened against that thought, she hadn’t been planning to have to use the weapon for a true battle this trip. It should have been symbolic, a part of the ritual of celebrating the oncoming change of weather.
Moreover, she’d been looking forward to sharing it with Dick. She squeezed the handle tighter. As children they had tried once to see the sword, sneaking into the armory together. She had been hoping to relive a little of that childhood magic. Instead, Freeze had stolen away her closest friend, and if Alfred was not successful in saving him--
She swallowed back the lump fury building in her chest. She would not dwell on such thoughts. Dick would be fine, and she would have quite the story to tell him.
Freeze shifted his weight backward, telegraphing his next move. He swatted at her, deadly claws arcing through the air. She dropped down, sliding on her knees, and felt the chilly air brush over her with the force of his blow. As he pulled back, Donna tucked and rolled, positioning herself right under his stomach, where his scales were weak and she could do the most damage. With her continued momentum, she raised the flaming sword and dug it into his belly, ignoring his scream of pain and pulled. The air was hot and stank with burning flesh and sizzling blood as she sliced a wide arc. And then she was out from under him, the sword coming away with twick that splattered blood across her shoulder.
Freeze roared, taking partially to the air in the cave to avoid another attack, not realizing Donna was no longer beneath him. He stumbled in the air, crashing back down after a moment. It took another for him to regain his senses, and with a flash of freezing air from his throat he charged at Donna again.
He was slower now, favoring the side closest to his injury, and Donna took advantage of it. She darted around him, raking the sword across one, then two legs before sliding across the icy floor to the other end of the room.
Before either of them could make a next move, a clatter of hooves and the sound of voices entered the cave, echoing through the room. Freeze roared, as a jumble of men and women in armor rushed into the room.
There was a beat of silence as the separate groups looked at one another, and then Freeze took to the air again, wobbling for a moment before diving towards the soldiers, and blasting freezing air at them. They scattered, diving for cover. In that moment, Freeze was out of the cave and flying further away.