Into The Fire - Bane fic/Part 3 of Trilogy

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Sandy wrote:I'm caught up. Thoughts:

Ch 1---Bane gets talia ass...nice work champ.

Ch 2---I had no idea Barsad was coming into play this early

Ch 3---The dialogue in this excerpt solidifies the great job you've done of creating a true to life characterization of Bane. Barsad subtly pulling the alpha male card on him is moderately unbelievable yet becomes believable due to the tens of thousands of words you've written building things to this point. Back in the day I was super excited to see the Ducard/Bane chapters but this really topped them in my eyes.
Sandy, did you read the final chapter of "Beyond The Shadows"?

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Baniac wrote:
Sandy wrote:I'm caught up. Thoughts:

Ch 1---Bane gets talia ass...nice work champ.

Ch 2---I had no idea Barsad was coming into play this early

Ch 3---The dialogue in this excerpt solidifies the great job you've done of creating a true to life characterization of Bane. Barsad subtly pulling the alpha male card on him is moderately unbelievable yet becomes believable due to the tens of thousands of words you've written building things to this point. Back in the day I was super excited to see the Ducard/Bane chapters but this really topped them in my eyes.
Sandy, did you read the final chapter of "Beyond The Shadows"?
I missed it but now I'm back in the game.

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Can't wait to see what it is that makes Bane the alpha :?

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TehBatGetsBraked wrote:Can't wait to see what it is that makes Bane the alpha :?
Are you inferring something, young man? ;)

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Four

The noise of New Dehli rose to meet Bane as he stepped out onto the apartment’s balcony, some twelve stories up. He stretched and yawned behind the mask, basking in the morning sunlight, squinting. A cool morning, but one promising warmth later. He leaned on the railing, listened to the voice of the city, studying the surrounding buildings with their varied architecture. This time of day the air was more acceptable to him; like Shanghai—the scene of his final mission with the League of Shadows—New Dehli had notoriously poor air quality, something that was a challenge to his mask. Well, perhaps soon that problem would be rectified…or at least improved, for Malik had said his new mask would be ready today.

Bane considered Malik, their Indian host. A bit nervous and fidgety, but sharp-minded. Once Malik had left the military, he had worked for the government for several years, something related to their nuclear program—his explanation had been fragmented and vague, and Bane had not pressed, though he had a feeling from Barsad’s deliberate look that his American companion knew the details. As Barsad had foretold, Malik had been fascinated by Bane’s mask and had eagerly set about designing one more efficient in function as well as durability.

Both Malik and Barsad were still asleep when Bane had left his blankets that morning (he slept on the living room floor while Barsad snored away on the couch). Barsad had been out late the night before—Bane did not ask of his business—and Malik had been holed up in his room, diligently clattering away on his computer. Bane had remained at the apartment, content to crochet and watch television. He had to admit to a slight fascination with television, for his life had allowed for few such amenities. In prison, the doctor had a small black and white television which often did not work and when it did it received only a fuzzy feed from the BBC. But Bane had spent hours in Assad’s cell, watching and learning about the strange world of light far beyond the dark realm of the pit, dreaming that one day he would escape and be a part of it. Yet even after his escape and after seven years had passed, he never truly felt a part of that world.

He did not always remain in the apartment, though. Since coming to New Dehli two weeks ago, he had often ventured out to explore the city. He had been here two times before while a member of the League, but his duties had kept him from enjoying the culture and the many places of note like the Red Fort, Qutb Minar, or the National Museum. Bane’s interests amused Barsad who found little appeal in such wanderings.

Of course during his explorations, Bane and his mask were subject to the typical looks of fear and repulsion from New Dehli’s teeming population. When he had first escaped prison, such reactions had disturbed and almost saddened him, but those emotions had quickly faded, swallowed by a growing disdain for the narrow-minded. Eventually he came to relish these expressions, drawing strength from the knowledge that he intimidated without saying a word. Rā’s al Ghūl had once told him: “You must bask in the fear of other men.” Rā’s had been the first to recognize that Bane’s mask, the very thing that deprived him of society’s acceptance, could be used as a weapon, a weapon of fear.

Bane sank into a chair on the balcony, his stomach growling for breakfast. He ignored this, however, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, allowing his mind to stray, and such digressions always began and ended with Talia. When he had awoken that morning, he had been dreaming about her, about their lovemaking. Such dreams were always bittersweet to him, for since leaving the League, he expected to rarely if ever see her again. After all, her powerful father had ambitious plans for her. After graduating from Le Rosey, a world-renown private school in Switzerland, she would attend Oxford University. After that, she would go to America, and there—if Rā’s al Ghūl’s plans succeeded—she would marry Gotham City’s favored son, billionaire Bruce Wayne. Once so highly placed, she would manipulate Wayne and his vast fortune to not only benefit the League but to eventually bring about the destruction of America’s most corrupt and irredeemable city.

It was Bane’s contention of Rā’s’ nefarious matchmaking that had ultimately been the last straw in the two men’s relationship. Now that he was removed from the situation, Bane feared for Talia’s future. Of course once he had exposed her father’s plans to Talia, she had vehemently vowed to never marry Wayne or any man whom she did not love. But Bane understood Rā’s’ determination and power more than Talia ever could, and thus he was not so convinced of Talia being able to hold to her word.

Bane had shared his concerns with Maysam who easily comprehended the discomfort of arranged marriages. But she had cautioned against putting the proverbial cart before the horse, considering how young Talia still was.

“It has been difficult these past few years,” he had confided. “I was so accustomed to protecting her in prison that once we were free and she was with her father, I still had trouble entrusting her to someone else’s care. Truth be told, I still do. I promised Melisande that I would protect Talia. To me, that is a vow for as long as Talia lives, no matter who else is in her life. I will always worry about her.”

“When you reach New Dehli, you must purchase a mobile phone, so I can stay in touch with you, Haris. I can keep you informed about Talia. Perhaps that will ease your concerns. I know you will not always be in a location where you have reception, but when you are, we will be able to talk.” She paused. “I will worry about you, of course, and so will Talia.” Then she smiled sadly. “And perhaps in time you will call Talia yourself.”

He had previously told to her that he thought it best if he kept distant from Talia. He feared more than anything that she would forsake her education to spite her father and join him. He did not want to mistakenly provide her with any such opportunity. If she could not find him, she could not join him.

Bane left the balcony and headed for the bathroom to shower before his companions could awaken. He took his time, having injected himself with enough morphine to see him through his morning ablutions. Meticulously he shaved the scarred remains of his face where random patches of beard still managed to make a regular appearance, and then he did the same to his head, a usual ritual to ensure the tight fit of his mask. And he wanted his skin particularly smooth today for fitting the new mask. At the thought, his fingers twitched with a mixture of eagerness and trepidation. He was so accustomed to his current mask that he saw it as a permanent part of himself, like an arm or a leg. So the thought of something replacing it gave him pause.

Distantly he heard the ring of a phone, paid no attention to it, figuring it was Barsad’s. But then he heard the American’s voice just outside the bathroom door.

“Phone for you, Bane.”

Of course that could mean only one person: Maysam. Instinctive concern hurried Bane. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“Says her name is Talia.”

Bane startled, cutting his scalp with the razor, drawing a soft curse. His shocked eyes stared back at him in the mirror above the sink.

“You want me to tell her you’ll call back?”

“No!” He dropped the razor into the sink and hastily reached for a towel.

Bane jerked the door open so suddenly that Barsad took a surprised step back. Then, seeing the exposed ruin of Bane’s face, he dropped his gaze back to the cell phone in his hand. This was not the first time he had seen Bane without the mask, for he had been there when Malik had taken a lifecast of his head in preparation for fitting the mask, but the sudden, unexpected appearance now took him unaware, and he seemed determined not to make Bane feel uncomfortable or self-conscious.

Taking the phone, Bane—dressed only in sweatpants—headed for the balcony as he spoke. “Talia?” A slight delay, a lag of excruciating length in which he repeated her name with even more urgency.

“Bane? Bane, is that you?”

“Yes. Can you hear me?”

“Yes; yes, that’s better. Where are you?”

He closed the sliding glass door behind him, his hands trembling. “I’m in India. Where are you?”

“At school.”

Bane glanced at the rising sun. “But it’s early there. You should be asleep.”

“I wanted to call you before I got up for class so we have time to talk.”

He paced back and forth. “Did your grandmother give you my number?” He shook his head—what a stupid question; of course Maysam did.

“Yes. She didn’t want to; she said you didn’t want me to know how to find you.” Even through this connection, hurt made its way through her words.

“I’m sorry, Talia; I just want to make sure you stay in school.”

“I know; that’s what Grandmama said. But that’s what Papa wants, too, and I’m so angry with him that I—”

Habibati,” Bane said in as calming a voice as he could muster, “you don’t have to stay in school for the sake of your father. Do it for yourself; do it for me.”

“Will you come visit? I miss you so much.”

He closed his eyes against the pain. “I miss you, too. And I hope to see you again, but for now we are each where we need to be. Do you understand?”

Bane heard her slight huff on the end of the line, then a pause before she asked, “Where in India are you?”

“Your grandmother didn’t tell you?” he tested.

“No. She said you told her not to.”

Bane nodded to himself, pleased to have his belief in Maysam validated. “It doesn’t matter where I am; I won’t be here much longer. I am waiting on a new mask, which I should receive today, then I will be leaving.”

“A new mask? Did something happen to the old one? Are you all right?”

“Yes, fine. This one is a new design.”

“You must send me pictures.”

“When I can.”

“Grandmama said you left with one of her men. What’s he like? Is he the man who answered your phone?”

“Yes.” Bane glanced over his shoulder into the apartment where Barsad was sitting up on the couch, his blankets shoved aside, and a cup of coffee now in his hands. He had been watching Bane and did not try to hide the fact by looking away; instead he lifted his coffee as if in tribute and gave a wry, knowing smile. Bane stiffened slightly when he realized what the man had assumed about the female caller. “So far, he is acceptable. Time will tell. But your grandmother thinks highly of him. She seems to believe we will work well enough.”

A hint of Talia’s usual impishness could be heard in her light laugh. “Did she warn him that you don’t play well with others?”

The return of her good humor instantly led his thoughts astray, and he felt a stirring in his loins. “I play well enough,” he said in a lower, heavier voice. “Or did you find me lacking on our last night?” He grinned a grin that he knew would be ghastly should anyone behold it.

“Bane!” Talia said with mock astonishment then laughed softly, no doubt not wanting to awaken her roommate. “Of course not. You could never be lacking…in anything. And now that I’ve been with a man, I find the boys here uninteresting, unappealing. I will be so bored without you.”

“Talia,” Bane scolded, though with little true effort, for on the point of selfish pleasure, he would be forever satisfied knowing she might never let another of Le Rosey’s pampered rich boys touch her. “You must at least play the part there. Those boys will one day be men of wealth, and we or your father may have need of them. I know you well enough to know you can be at least a good actress.”

“Father,” she scoffed, her tone instantly sour again. “I won’t be doing him any favors. You should have seen his face when I told him we had sex.”

Bane nearly choked. “You what?”

“I told him. Of course I did. The day you left. I was crying after I found you had left without saying good-bye.”

“Talia, I had to—”

“I know, habibi. I understood. But that didn’t make it any easier. So when Father found me crying, he said more hateful things about you; called you a monster again. So I told him. And I told him that he was the monster and that you have more love inside you than he ever could, especially for me. And that you had shown me as much when I had gone into your room the night before. Serves him right. Remember when we first came to the League, when I was younger, and he always rebuked me when I would snuggle in bed with you? He never really understood, even though he knew we had shared a bed since Mama’s death. How could he not understand?”

“Talia.” Bane hesitated, cleared his throat, her revelation to her father taking his response in several conflicting directions. “We talked about this before I left, about you not losing your father’s favor. I understand you’re angry with him, and—trust me—I appreciate your defense of me. But before you speak in anger with him again, you must caution yourself. Like it or not, he is your guardian, both physically and financially.”

“I was just fine with you as my guardian.”

“Things are different now; it’s not just you and me, and we aren’t in prison. I can’t be those things for you any longer.”

“Don’t say that, habibi.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It may be, but I hate hearing you say it.”

Bane frowned. “You should be sleeping instead of talking to me. You will fall asleep in class later.”

“I want to hear what you’ve been doing since you left. Where are you going after you get your mask?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Will you at least promise to call me?”

“I won’t be able to. It’s a remote location.”

She groaned slightly. “If you don’t tell me, I shall worry even more. What if something happens to you and you need help? How would I find you?”

“There will be no need. However, if you have an emergency, you must contact your grandmother and let her know. She will find a way to reach me. But, Talia, mind what I’ve said—an emergency; something your father isn’t able to help you with. Understand? I will be far from you.”

Sadness quieted her; he could feel it as if she were standing here beside him, as he wished she were. “I understand,” she murmured at last.

“Good. Now you should hang up and try to get some sleep before you have to get up for class.”

“I don’t want to hang up. Can’t we keep talking?”

“No, habibati. You must focus on school, not me.”

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled as if into her pillow. He imagined her wild hair splayed around her. “We should be together.”

“There is nothing I want more, little mouse. But we can’t cry over spilt milk, as they say. Now say good-bye.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

She gave a small whimper.

“Then I will say it.”

“No.”

He sighed to himself. “Good-bye, habibati.” He frowned down at the street below. “Always know that I love you, that I always will.”

With a slight tremble in her voice, she responded, “I love you, too.” Then in a near whisper, “Good-bye.”

Bane remained on the balcony for some time after ending the call, staring out over the city, trying to settle his emotions. Perhaps he should not have taken the call but instead avoid all contact with Talia as he had planned. Weak, he berated himself, you are weak. And worse yet, Barsad had heard her voice. Surely Maysam had never told the American about her granddaughter, and if she had, no doubt Barsad would have told him as much. He remembered Barsad’s knowing look and small smile minutes ago. Mere conjecture on the American’s part, of course; what else could it be if Maysam had not revealed Talia’s existence?

For a moment Bane closed his eyes, tried to slow the beat of his heart, stirred so by the conversation. And in that private darkness he saw her; she came to him as she had come to him that last night—a mysterious shape, small and gliding, dressed only in a short kimono. As he remembered the exquisite fabric beneath his touch and the soft warmth of her flesh, his fingers twitched, that restless tick of his, always so prevalent, something he had to consciously suppress around others, for it was the only thing besides his eyes that could give away the turmoil within. Another weakness.

So Talia had told Rā’s about them. Bane could only imagine the man’s outrage. After all, he was fifteen years older than Talia, and in Rā’s’ eyes his daughter was still a child. But even worse than that to Rā’s would be Bane’s unworthiness. Bane was no Bruce Wayne. Rā’s viewed Bane as nothing more than a soldier in his covert army. A pawn in a game of international chess, and Talia the queen. Although Rā’s held a certain gratefulness for Bane’s protection of Melisande and Talia in prison, he could never get beyond the fact that Bane’s mere presence reminded him of his own failings when it came to his family; he would forever blame himself for Melisande’s imprisonment and nightmarish death.

Bane cursed these memories, low and harsh behind the mask, then returned inside. There was Barsad still on the couch, leisurely enjoying his coffee. After the coffee would come the usual morning cigarette. Such a vile habit, and one that irritated Bane through his mask. Barsad did not smoke excessively, true enough—usually only one cigarette after each meal—but Bane hoped he could break him of the habit altogether or that their time in the remote reaches of Kashmir would see an end to his supply.

As if reading Bane’s mind, Barsad tapped the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table before him. “Swore off the things when I started to work for Siddig. I itch for them when I’m bored, though. Hopefully after you get your mask today, we can be on our way, yes?”

Still distracted in his thoughts, Bane grunted and nodded before stepping into the kitchen.

“Everything all right with the girl?” Barsad called leadingly.

Bane stared at the phone still in his hand. He tried to gauge Barsad’s question without being able to see the man. It was not like the American to openly pry; Bane appreciated that about him, especially this early in their relationship. So what was in his voice? Sarcasm? Concern? Concern, Bane figured. After all, going into combat with another man, you wanted to be assured that your mate was focused upon the task at hand.

“Yes,” Bane called at last, his tone purposefully apathetic. He left it at that and reached to pour a cup of coffee. He would allow himself this small comfort before he had to don his mask once again. After all, he needed it.

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Wow, lots of stuff in this chapter. The bit about Barsad snoring made me laugh lol, as well as Bane's startled reaction when he heard that Talia had called him. Bane's conversation with Talia was definitely sad though, hopefully they see each other again soon.

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BaneIsPain wrote:Wow, lots of stuff in this chapter. The bit about Barsad snoring made me laugh lol, as well as Bane's startled reaction when he heard that Talia had called him. Bane's conversation with Talia was definitely sad though, hopefully they see each other again soon.
Thanks, Andrew. Barsad might be thinking Bane's got some action going on the side. :lol: Or something. ;)

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First off, I have to say that Ra's al Ghul is an idiot. :O Why would he let go of such a valuable member as Bane, who has a mask that inspires fear? I don't buy that he's defending his daughter's virtue. He hasn't always been there for her through no fault of his own. He knows he's can't force his authority to make up for lost time, and he knows there are parts of her life that he can never reach. He can't possibly understand the scenario "young man falls in love with his charge".

On the other hand, I love it that Barsad is skilfully trying to navigate his relationship with Bane, cleverly asking if everything is alright with Talia..

It's also nice to note that Bane eventually gets them colour tv in the pit. :)

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not gonna lie Bane/Barsad is my favorite friendship/relationship in the whole thing so far

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TehBatGetsBraked wrote:not gonna lie Bane/Barsad is my favorite friendship/relationship in the whole thing so far
Same here. I liked his friendship with Temujin in the previous story but now that he's gone, Barsad is taking the place quite nicely. (Though there will never be another Temujin!)

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