Prologue

Hope is a bird
With wonderful feathers
It sits on the boughs of the soul
And sings the song of how to remain alive

The snow drifts lazily from the darkening sky, coating the streets and buildings that lay below in a soft, pure, white powder.

The air is frigid, only degrees above freezing, low enough that the people of Gotham know to stay inside or risk hypothermia.

The moon shines brightly overhead, causing the snow to shine in its rays, illuminating even the darkest reaches of the kingdom in its soft glow.

All was silent.

A young boy, 8 years of age, stares up at the moon through a crack in a boarded up window.

Snowflakes dance in his deep, cerulean irises, reflecting sadness, pain, and fear; his ebony hair flows with the gentle breeze from the outside.

He is a prisoner in this small shack that he shares with several others of his kind. Captured and shackled, awaiting the inevitable that awaits them with the arising sun.

They are all destine for the same fate; a harsh life is awaiting come tomorrow.

But for tonight, they enjoy the last few hours of what little freedom they have left, consoling each other and trying to look on the brighter side of things, though a bright side seems nonexistent if the harsh but wise words of those who are less than optimistic are of any indication.

As for the boy staring at the moon, though as sad, as in pain, and as frightened as he may be, his eyes are full of hope.

Hope that someday once more he may see the moon shine without the shackles and cuffs that bind his hands and feet.

Hope that he will someday once more he may be reunited with his family.

And hope that he may be able to watch the snow fall in the warmth of his mother's embrace while his father tells stories around the fire.

His gaze, though saddened, pained, and frightened, is filled with hope.

So filled with life.

A small shiver shakes the child's body, forcing him toward the dimming fire in the middle of the small room.

He lays down on the cold, hard ground; his head is resting in his hands.

Cerulean eyes drift shut, and a prayer is sent to the God above, but the child does not fall asleep.

He does not sleep well this night; not many do when their hearts are filled with so much hope.

An intense gaze looks toward the moon, steel-blue eyes filled with so much hurt and so much pain.

The snow falls around him, dyeing his black-as-night hair a pearly shade of white before melting seconds later, dampening both his hair and his clothes.

He is standing outside on his balcony and has no protection from the cascading flakes.

The cold does not bother him; the numbness he feels from the temperature acts as an indicator that he is still alive.

Still breathing.

Still feeling.

And at the moment, he feels nothing but emptiness.

The bright orb above him offers comfort, but not the type of comfort that he so desperately needs.

He is king of this kingdom; his deepest desires are at his call.

And yet, nothing can fill the emptiness of which he feels inside. Nothing that can be easily obtain that is.

He desired to put the painful past behind him; to forget the bad memories and move forward, but the pain is too great.

This man, the king, he desires for love and companionship; somebody to help him forget his pain and to help alight his frozen heart with fire once more.

As of yet, the moon is his only companion.

It is as dark and cold as he feels, but it still shines reflects within his eyes hope that someday he'll know what it's like to be loved once more.

As dead as he feels, he's alive.

So full of life.

He retreats inside once more, closing the balcony doors before lying down in his bed. But the king does not fall asleep.

He does not sleep well this night; but not many did when their hearts are filled with so much longing.

Important: Please Read

A/N: Well hello there. Thank you for reading. Typically, my stories aren't this short, but seeing as this is only the Prologue, it's okay. I generally don't do chapter stories seeing as I only update when I feel like it, but this plot bunny has been haunting me for a while now. I feel as though it's important that I explain a couple of things, so listen up.

This is an alternate universe. I have yet to decide what role Batman will play in this story and whether or not Bruce will be Batman or if he's a different entity all together. I'm making up all of this as I go.

Yes, Bruce is a King. A sexy, stud of a King. I'll go further into his background as the story progresses. Just know that his parents are dead, died when he was little, probably poisoned or something, and this is why he is such a sad and lonely downer.

I left Dick's parents alive for the time being. I'll explain later as to how they had gotten separated and whatnot, but for now, well use your imagination.

I'm not sure of what other characters I will be bring in, but expect Alfred and Lucious for sure. Tony Zucco will play a short roll in the beginning (can you guess why?) But other than that, well, we'll just see.

Finally, please understand that I'm a busy person. College is currently consuming my life, and really I can only write when I feel like it. Updates are going to come slow, but they will be longer. I hope the slow updates don't derail you from reading.

I really hope you enjoyed the Prolouge. It didn't take all the long to write, and it's unbeta'ed, so sorry for any mistakes.

Leave a Review and Let me know if you want more.

Xiao Fu out!