Ok, a quick side note; the negative views different characters express about cultures and religions throughout this story are not my personal views.

Also, for anyone concerned with the direction of Selina vs Diana, don't worry, life is long and so is this story.

Thank You So Much For Reading, Everyone Stay Safe and Healthy, and finally Please Review!

Chapter 21: To Have and to Hold

9:00 AM A Rented House, Gotham, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Selina

The bells rang loudly, announcing to the whole city that the Duke of Gotham was soon to have a Duchess!

Selina gave a tiny squeal as she watched the streets, already crowded with spectators, celebrating below. The early morning sunshine glinted across her ring and she once more admired the large square-cut emerald on her left finger.

She had initially worried it might be considered gaudy, but after the involuntary cry she had given when Bruce had slipped it on her finger he had laughed and said that it reminded him of her eyes. That had sealed it, she was never taking this ring off ever! Dancing her finger in front of the window she shivered with delight as the gem bounced the light back and forth.

In her giddy state, she was completely oblivious to the bustling chaos around her.

The entire Randle clan and wedding party were crammed into this small townhouse her uncles had rented for the occasion. The only expense they were footing for the wedding by the way. Everything else, from the food to her dress itself had been paid for by Bruce. Selina truly was entering her marriage with nothing, and not so much as a penny on the way out from her family. But she did not care, in fact, it was better this way. She wanted nothing from any of them, and after today, she could happily never hear the name Randle again for as long as she lived!

"Lina! Stop preening and come get your hair done." Aunt Hortense was in a better mood than usual today and gave her a smile that, if one didn't know better, could have been confused for affectionate.

She is probably just so happy to be rid of me her brain doesn't know how to react. Doesn't hurt either that she can now brag about having a Duchess in the family.

Selina obediently pranced back to where her Aunt waited at the vanity with the French Maid Bruce's cousin Dinah had sent to do her hair.

The Maid ran skilled fingers nimbly through Selina's poufy locks and shook her head good-naturedly at the assemblage of chattering hens behind her buzzing about the room, laughing and arguing as they helped one another get ready for the ceremony.

There were seven bridesmaids in all; Maggie, Eliza, and twins Hannah, and Georgiana Randle, who were in surprisingly good spirits. Then there were some of Bruce's cousins; More twins, Elizabeth "Beth" and Katherine "Kate" Kane, and little Lucy Lane, who took in everything with such wide-eyed wonder that Selina found her simply adorable.

She was going to have eight bridesmaids originally, but, Bruce's older cousin Mary Elizabeth "Bette" Kane had laughed at the idea and said she was far too old for such nonsense. Aunt Hortense had been offended at the slight, but she didn't care, nothing could spoil today!

"Where do you want the ribbon mademoiselle?"

The maid held up a slim sky-blue ribbon so Selina could see it in the mirror.

The Bride to be examined her new hairstyle; Parted down the center the front sections had been pulled softly back and pinned away from her face with combs. Then the loose falling hair had been taken into sections and curled over the maid's fingers till a seamless curl ran across the side of her head and tucked at the nape of her neck, making her head look like it was framed by a black heart-shaped halo. Finally, what hair remained was braided and twisted into a chignon, nestled at the nape, connecting the curled rows.

"Tie it to the braid." Selina said.

The maid finished her work and Aunt Hortense nodded her approval.

"Where is Julia with the crown? You can't put on the dress before the crown!"

Hortense went stomping out of the room in search of jewelry and Selina began placing small drops of scent behind her ears and neck when she glanced a very pensive looking Lucy muttering in the background.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a silver sixpence in her shoe."

"Lucy, what are you doing?" Selina turned around to face the now embarrassed 12-year-old. She smiled kindly and the girl relaxed instantly.

"Well, your dress is new, the ribbon is something blue, and your Uncle Sebastian gave me this sixpence for your shoe, but you don't have anything old or borrowed."

Selina covered her mouth so Lucy wouldn't see her laugh.

"Can't the sixpence also count as something old? If it came from my uncle, then I'm sure it's ancient. He might even want it back after the ceremony so it could be borrowed too."

Lucy's earnest eyes were horrified, and this time Selina wasn't able to hide her laughter.

"Absolutely not! You can't double up; you'll ruin the luck!"

Selina ran her thumb over Lucy's cheek, brushing away a frustrated tear.

"Don't worry little Lucy, I like to think we make our own luck in life."

Lucy didn't have a chance to respond as they were interrupted by Hortense returning with a very angry looking Julia.

"Here we are!" Hortense exclaimed as she took the crown of orange blossoms and myrtle leaves from Julia and carefully placed it on Selina's head.

Selina watched Julia's bitter expression in the mirror as she shuffled through the various boxes and tissue paper looking for the veil. Hortense saw this and gave her niece a firm pat on the shoulder to regain her attention.

"Let that be a lesson to you Lina," Hortense said motioning to Julia, "Men don't like wives who complain. If you cannot get what you want through your silence you never will, the moment you fight you've lost."

Julia returned with the veil then and the two returned their attentions to her hair.

A knock on the door and a man's head stuck into the crowded room.

"May I come in?" Uncle Sebastian grinned from the doorway.

"Sure!" Beth laughed while Kate let out a shrill whistle, Maggie, Hannah, and Georgiana protested loudly that men weren't allowed to see the bride, and Lucy ran to hide behind Eliza.

"I'll only be a moment!" Assured Sebastian as he waltzed over to the vanity and held out a piece of paper to Selina. "I just have some deliveries to make. Here you are, Lina."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a bank draft. Francis and I decided to give it to you now as a wedding gift, it is your mother's portion of the inheritance. Only about 250 pounds but still quite a tidy sum."

Selina glimpsed Julia's face pinch in the mirror. So that must have been what they were fighting about.

Looking down at the thin piece of paper Selina's finger turned cold, she'd had money, this whole time she could've left? No, they'd kept it from. Tightening her hands, she gave her Uncle a cold thank you, he didn't seem to notice its icy edge.

"Oh! And one more thing." Sebastian held up a black velvet drawstring pouch. "Wayne's butler just delivered this, a wedding gift from the groom."

All the other ladies crowded around as Selina opened the pouch. Reaching her claw in she pulled out the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen.

It was a necklace. Thirteen pearl drops hung from a delicate chain made of minuscule diamonds. Between each pearl was a thin diamond loop, connecting the drops, that looked like small crescents made of stars. The center drop was one especially large tear-shaped pearl hanging as a pendant, smooth as glass.

A sharp gasp made everyone turn their heads to see Kate trying to cover her shocked expression with her hands.

"Th-That was his mother's," Kate whispered almost reverently.

Selina looked back at the necklace in awe. It was so fine, she felt if she breathed to hard it might break.

She wasn't worthy to wear this necklace, his mother's necklace. A teary mist clouded her eyes as she felt the weight of this thing in her hands. How could it ever be mine?

"Here."

Hortense took it from her hands and placed it around her neck, the cool stones against her bare skin made Selina shiver.

"You look beautiful." Eliza cooed while the rest silently nodded.

She was right. The woman looking back at her was someone Selina had never seen before, beautiful yes, but also confident, happy, and loved. This necklace was the proof, she was loved.

"I can't believe it's mine." She shook her head wondering how to convince herself that this was all real. Then she let out an impetuous laugh and gently caressed the pearls.

"I guess I'll just think of it as borrowed till I get used to it." And with a flash of inspiration, she turned back around and exclaimed. "There you go Lucy, something borrowed!"

9:45 AM Riverfoot Hall, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Diana

The sound of the carriage rolling away was faint, but she could still hear it. How painful would it be to cut off one's own ears?

She tried again to read her book, but her eyes wouldn't focus on the words.

Frustrated she hurled it across the room and watch unsatisfied at it bounced off the wall and landed in a bent heap on the floor.

She looked at it for minute, honestly impressed at how hard she had thrown it, before remembering with a jolt that she had borrowed that book from Barbara and the scholarly Babs would not take kindly to the destruction of her property.

"Barda!" Diana hollered.

No response.

She tried again.

"Barda!"

Still nothing.

"BARDA!"

Silence.

Groaning Diana strained across the chair to reach the cane she'd carelessly dropped when she sat down.

After quite a bit of straining and pawing at the rug, she managed to grab the infernal thing.

"GOT YA! Okay, now for the hard part."

Gingerly she lifted her foot off the cushioned stool and slowly rotated till it was hovering over the floor. Supporting her weight on her other leg and pushing against the cane she gradually stood up and placed her still hovering foot down on the floor.

Wincing as her stiff muscles adjusted to the increased pressure, she made her way over to the abused book.

Just as her limping gate finally made it and she bent down the door to her room flung open unceremoniously and Big Barda filled the frame.

"Better late than never," Diana grumbled and retrieved her book.

Barda dropped a breakfast tray on the side table and marched across the floor, making the boards tremor until she loomed over her charge.

Diana tried to avoid the maid's dark gaze but that was hard to do when you were cornered by a giant.

It was like she could hear Barda's deep voice in every silent second hissing, coward, coward, COWARD!

"What is it?!" Diana barked.

Barda didn't blink. Rough calluses scraped unblemished palms, as she took the damaged book from Diana's hands.

"Take better care of your things."

Diana watched slack-jawed as Barda left her room, book in hand, black ponytail swinging in time with her gait.

Diana had grown up royalty, surrounded by servants and subordinates, and was no stranger to giving orders, orders she took for granted would be obeyed. Apart from Fadeela, whom she had seen as an extension of Nura, no servant would've ever spoken so directly, so bluntly, to their mistress. But once again, Barda proved the exception.

Suddenly she got the feeling that Barda was just humoring her when she obeyed, that there was a motivation to her that Diana couldn't see, and perhaps shouldn't want to.

Still in shock Diana limped out of her room and wandered downstairs to the parlor.

She found it there, sitting neatly on the ottoman where he had left it.

Sitting gingerly on the sofa Diana picked up one of the beautifully carved pieces. It was supposed to be the knight, but it was carved in the image of a huntress drawing her bow, Artemis.

She rolled the figure between her fingers, feeling every groove and niche.

He had brought it to her the day after she fell…A late birthday gift he'd said…a sign of his support of her winning against Alfred. She hadn't even been able to look him in the eye.

He'd tried to talk to her for hours, asking about her lessons, updating her on his life, he'd even mentioned her, his fiancée.

He'd spoken of plays and poetry, practiced his Arabic, all the while she'd done her best to remain cold and distant. Then the worst of all happened, he asked if she was missing home.

How could he ask that? As if he didn't know, didn't understand! He'd lost his family too, he knew that pain, knew how even in your happiest moments it would arise just to destroy it, and at your lowest would be the fire that consumed. Of course, she missed her family, and now, when she was just managing to finally obtain a new one when things, at last, seemed to fall into place, the one person she counted on, the one person who knew her best, the only one she could be fully honest with had left! She loved him and he was leaving her behind.

But all she said was yes…yes, I miss home.

He'd looked at her with such pity and compassion that she'd burst into tears, tears of frustration at being misunderstood but not knowing how to explain. He'd hugged her, given her a handkerchief to dry her eyes and said, patience princess, you have more then you think.

"No Bruce, I don't."

Diana sat the chess piece down and twirled her cane in her hands.

Her injury had in many ways been a blessing. It had gotten her out of visiting Wayne Castle, though she missed Alfred desperately, she was grateful to not have to risk seeing Bruce. It had also gotten her out of attending the wedding. Truth be told she could have gone, physically, but no one fought her excuses that it hurt too much to hobble around with a cane for so long. So, they'd left, and she stayed behind, alone.

10:30 AM Wayne Castle, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Bruce

"Only took you 26 years but you finally managed to settle down!"

Oliver slapped his friend on the back. He held the flask out to Clark who declined. Oliver just shrugged his shoulders and took a quick sip.

Clark and Bruce shared a knowing look at their friend's antics, thank God Oliver wasn't as dense as he presented himself to be, though sometimes he did make them wonder.

"The carriage is ready Sir." The three looked over at the Waynes' faithful guardian, who was smartly dressed in one of Bruce's father's old morning suits. Bruce had offered to buy him a new one, but the steely butler would not hear of it, replying that somethings are better old than new.

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce nodded "Oh, did Selina get her gift?"

"Yes, Master Bruce, I delivered it myself."

"Yourself? You didn't need to do that, why did we bother hiring a bloody army's worth of staff if you weren't going to use them?" Bruce asked.

The elder gentleman straightened even more, making Clark and Oliver notice his resemblance to a bean pole.

"They were hired Sir because it is how things are done. The reception especially must be fully equipped. There will soon be a lady in residence, and she will not find the dignity of Wayne Castle lacking, not while there is breath in my body. Errand boys, however, were not on the list of hires. Wouldn't trust some whippersnapper with the mistress's things, the very idea!"

"Alright Alfred, no errand boys."

"Quite right Sir."

"Still, you shouldn't have had to run across town when you're so busy Alfred, I could've delivered it for you." Clark offered smiling.

The butler looked like he had been slapped in the face. Oliver fell into a chair laughing as Clark hung his head at Alfred's disapproving look.

"I also have a message for Master Oliver from Miss Dinah. She says if he does not come downstairs immediately then he will be sitting with the Hales alone during the service."

Like a shot Oliver was out of his chair and charging through the door, hollering for Dinah not to leave him behind.

"Did she really say that?" Clark asked warily.

"Loose lips sink ships Master Clark." Alfred's demeanor remained dignified, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce smiled warmly.

In a moment Alfred transformed from the Duke's dignified butler to the caring father figure he had been all those years ago when the man standing before him had been a shy little boy who was afraid of the dark and had trouble making friends.

"I thought you might like to wear this today."

Alfred held out well brushed black silk top hat.

"It was your father's; he wore it on his wedding day," Alfred commented softly mist gathering in his weathered eyes. "I had it resized, just in case."

Bruce felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at the hat. A wealth of words and meanings he could not begin to say washed over him, but one look at the unbending man before him, and it no longer mattered, he already knew.

He took the hat.

Pulling on his cuffs Alfred Pennyworth clipped his heels, gave a slow respectful bow, and left for his post at the church. He wouldn't have missed this day for anything in the world.

"It's nearly time to go, are you ready?" Clark asked, keeping a close eye on the time as every good best man should.

"Almost." Bruce turned back to the mirror, adjusting the white carnation in his buttonhole, being sure it was not crushed against his lapel.

"How's Diana doing?" he asked as he finished with the flower and began putting on his gloves.

"Her ankle is still not healed, I'm sorry she couldn't be at the wedding," Clark replied.

Bruce nodded, he was disappointed she was not coming, but he was sure such a large social gathering would have been daunting to her and so felt he understood.

"Clark, do feel she is adjusting well?"

"What do you mean?"

"To England, to your family, to learning how to navigate a new world."

Clark laughed and waved away his friend's concerns.

"Believe me, Diana's completely acclimated. Why, if not for that accent of hers, you'd never know she'd ever been anywhere else, and even that has faded."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at how his friend said 'been'.

She hadn't been to the market Clark, she lived in another country, another culture, she was raised with it in her bones, that's not going to go away.

"Give it enough time and she may be pronouncing her vowels like the Queen herself."

"With a German accent then." Bruce quipped.

Clark beamed as he took in the rarity of Bruce Wayne making a joke. Even the man himself had to smirk at how awestruck Clark looked.

"Anyway, this is your wedding day Bruce! There is only one thing you need to be concerned with today, at that is the fact that if we don't leave now, you'll be late."

11:00 AM St. Margaret's Church, Gotham, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Isabel Hale

Isabel jerked her head back and forth, trying to see exactly who all was there as entered the church.

The Anglican cathedral would have been a more suitable location, she thought.

That way all the important guests that are supposed to attend a Duke's wedding been invited.

"Catholics." Isabel sneered.

That was why they were crowded into the much smaller, less grand, and honestly inconvenient catholic church venue.

Even though the church was packed, few of the ancient nobility were in attendance, excluding the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk of course. The missing persons having politely, but resoundingly, declined the popish service.

The Hales too might have protested the invitation on principle, but Isabel was never one to waste an opportunity at networking.

She was still frustrated that, though technically she had married into the distant parameters, she had never been able to break into the Lennox family barricade; now having expanded to include Chatsworths, Kents, Lanes, Queens, Lances, and the last Princeton.

Yes, if Isabel were to ever gather the political clout her husband deserved, she needed to infiltrate this closely guarded family sphere, and where better to advance this agenda then the wedding of their closest friends, the Waynes.

With a clear focus Isabel went back to sizing up the gathering. The bride's family, though not insignificant, were of no concern as their main pull rested in the religious sector.

She could see the groom's Kane relations were here. She must try getting close Nathan's new wife. The Kanes may not have been titled, but they had plenty of money to make up for it, old money! And their reputation for philanthropy didn't hurt either.

There were several guests of the lower nobility and upper middling sort present, clearly connections from the Duke's school days or business associations.

Isabel noticed that, excepting the immediate Randle family, the bride's section was completely void of guests and some of the overflow from the groom's side were spilling into the empty pews.

Odd, she thought. Even given the rumors that the girl had lived a secluded existence Isabel had expected at least a school chum or two. Even a former Nanny or poor relation would do, but no, nothing.

Turning back to the groom's side she continued her work.

And there sat the biggest prize of all! The Countess of Lonworth sitting next to her mother-in-law, Martha Lennox. If she could get Lois Lane on her side, then that was a direct link.

Isabel craned her neck to get a better view and what luck, she turned around.

My but she wasn't aging well at all! Her skin was quite pale, and her face had a distinctly haggard appearance. To think Isabel had once been jealous of Lois's looks! Well, the shoe was certainly on the other foot now. Isabel checked to be sure her new bonnet was secure and tilted her head demurely as she caught another guest admiring her milliner's creation.

Elliot had located their seats and motioned for his wife to sit first.

Isabel's fingers twitched greedily when she saw the Marquess and Marchioness of Rolland already seated in the pew. It seemed they were the only representatives of the Queen family, his parents appearing to be absent, which made her and Elliot the highest-ranking guests in attendance!

Flashing her most charming smile she took her seat next to Oliver. He greeted them civilly enough, though he hardly went out of his way, but his wife just gave Elliot a stiff nod before turning to stare straight ahead at the pulpit!

She grit her teeth. You cannot ignore me now, Dinah Lance, I am the Duchess of Hever.

Isabel felt the hollowness of her victory. She had the title true, but none of the trappings that went along with it.

Old Zachary Princeton had never warmed to his cousin and so hadn't changed his will.

Elliot's father had been practical reverend who never wanted the title of Duke and so left the estates and wealth untouched. But after five long years, Elliot had finally assumed the title, and Isabel quit stalling their engagement.

Then some vanished child had appeared from the depths claiming to be Zachary Princeton's daughter and the whole business was thrown up in the air before Isabel even had a chance to set foot through the door.

And who was the culprit for this ridiculous delay in granting what was rightfully hers? Battling the legal system in the name of deceased senile eccentric and some heathen raised barbaric child? None other than the man to her left, Oliver Queen.

"Shush" someone in further back hissed, "It's starting!"

11:15 AM St. Margaret's Church, Gotham, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Selina

The Music began to play, Uncle Sebastian offered her his arm, the doors opened, and all eyes turned to see her.

This was her moment, her wedding, she was the center of attention.

But as she made her way up the aisle, all the spectators and pomp fell away. Waiting for her at the end, he stood, tall, handsome, and calm. Black hair perfectly slicked back and kind blue eyes that watched only her. This was it, the moment when everything went right, from this day on she would never be alone.

It's you and me, just you and me.

11:30 AM St. Margaret's Church, Gotham, Kent England May 22, 1844

—The Wedding

The Bride wore a white satin dress trimmed lace and orange blossoms, and a gorgeous pearl and diamond necklace hung around her neck. Her gaze veil was anchored by a crown of orange blossoms and myrtle leaves, leaving her face exposed, she carried a bouquet of white lilies.

The Bridesmaids followed in matching white dresses with blue sashes and carrying smaller lily bouquets.

The Groom, Best man, and Bride's Uncle were all dressed in morning coats and top hats.

A glittering assembly of Gotham's finest and the highest nobility watched on as the couple said their vows and the Bride received a wedding band of Welsh gold.

The new Duke and Duchess exited the church under a rain of wheat tossed by well-wishers and were cheered by crowds as they rode in an open carriage to Wayne Castle for the reception.

That is how the papers would describe it, a perfect fairy tale come true, and they would be right.

But, as the gaggle of guests and carriages left the church and made their way to the Castle no one noticed one man in an old-fashioned suit walking away from the flowing crowd.

He climbed into a simple trap, clicked his tongue, and started the horse down the road.

3:00 PM Riverfoot Hall, Kent England May 22, 1844

—Diana

Diana lined up her shot, laying flat on the sofa she got as low as she could, everything had to be perfectly aligned.

Steady, and go!

Taking the end of her cane she hit the lined-up chess pieces one by one in quick succession. They flew off the ottoman and Diana began lining up the next row.

"Ahem." The Kents' butler coughed from the parlor doorway.

"Getting a cold Desmond?" Diana did not even raise her head as she once again punched her opponents over with the cane.

Desmond narrowed his eyes at the teenager who hadn't moved from the sofa since noon and was once again missing her shoes.

"You have a visitor, my lady, Mr. Pennyworth is at the door and requests your presence."

Immediately Diana rolled over and scrambled to get off the sofa. She made much less impressive speed once on her feet as her injury was still a hindrance. It didn't take long for her to get frustrated over her own slowness and Desmond had to restrain himself from shaking his head as the impatient girl began hopping towards the door, using her cane more as an oar than a crutch.

When the wobbling disaster had finally vacated the parlor, the butler took a look around and let out an exasperated groan before beginning to clean up the destruction.

"First the cracked bedroom door, then breaking her ankle, and now she's turned a cane into a weapon. Why does the Dowager let those children run wild?"

Desmond grumbled as he strained over his girth to pick up some of the discarded chess pieces, marveling at how someone could treat such an expensive gift this way.

"That girl needs to learn to control her temper."

He grabbed the decapitated body of Helen of Troy and felt his ire growing at the sight of her beautiful head resting in the cold ashes of the fireplace.

"Unrefined, temperamental, plain inconsiderate, and downright spoiled. This is marble, how did she even break this! Ugh, Lady Diana what is wrong with you?"

"She lacks focus." A deep voice said.

"BARDA!"

Desmond's puffy face turned Scarlet at the sight of Barda standing cross-armed in the doorway. Her normally stoic face glared at him and Desmond felt fear twist a knot in the pit of his stomach.

Her dark skin glistened with sweat and he could see the muscles tense beneath her sleeves. Why was she so muscular? Surely a maid's work wasn't enough to give someone that physique.

Barda continued to eye him suspiciously but seemed to decide he wasn't a threat and relaxed her stance. But he couldn't fully relax while that foreign colossus continued to watch him, what did she want? Oh, wait!

"The Lady is in the front yard, with Mr. Pennyworth."

That must've been what she was waiting for, with the slightest nod Barda left the room and Desmond let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding.

"Troublesome woman, do you even have any people? Must be why she talks so little, so no one can decipher that strange accent of hers."

While Desmond struggled Diana met her guest at the door. Though delighted, she was apprehensive as to why Alfred was here, shouldn't he be at the wedding? But any fears or misgivings vanished upon opening the door and seeing the dear man's softly smiling face.

"Lady Diana, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a picnic on the lawn?"

Before she could answer Alfred handed her an old blanket and began walking toward the far edge of the clearing, careful to not walk to fast for her to keep up with her cane.

Half an hour later Diana was sitting comfortably on the blanket enjoy her sandwich as Alfred refilled Barda's tea, she had joined them almost immediately and was sitting a respectful distance away like a sentry. Her maid's near-constant presence had become so familiar that Diana hardly even noticed she was there.

"There now, care for any more tea, Your Highness?"

"No thank you."

They sat in comfortable silence while they finished their sandwiches. But a dread wouldn't stop gnawing at her thoughts.

"Um, Alfred…why are you here?"

The older gentleman didn't answer but instead continued to drink his tea. Diana waited nervously until he sat the cup down and looked at her kindly. She felt her emotions threatening to overtake her and she looked away from his all-knowing gaze.

He seemed to understand and showed no offense at her aversion.

"I thought you could use a friend."

That did it, tears burned as she rubbed her eyes furiously. He waited patiently for her to collect herself and when she had poured them both another cup of tea. She was beginning to believe the English found tea the solution to everything, but she accepted the cup with gratitude and they again sat in silence.

"Have you ever been in love Alfred?"

His cup froze just below his perfect pencil mustache. He breathed in slowly and closed his eyes, allowing the steam waft over his face before lowering the cup back to the saucer and watching quietly as a bird flew overhead.

Diana was scared to breathe, afraid she would interrupt whatever spell had settled over him, and even Barda's rigid form appeared to lean a little closer to hear the answer.

"Yes." He said.

His voice did not sound sad nor nostalgic, just, peaceful.

"When did you stop?"

The corners of his mouth twitched up as he continued to watch the wonders of nature above him.

"I didn't."

Diana looked at him surprised, did Alfred have a lady love somewhere? Immediately her imagination began to concoct a fantasy of reunited lost love and a picture of this kind gentleman enjoying a lovely life of marital bliss. As if sensing her thoughts, his gentle eyes turned back to her and she read in them at once that she was wrong and such a thing could never be.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered.

His thin black eyebrows lifted in surprise and he shook his head slightly, the late afternoon sun dancing over his balding head.

"No, my dear, never be sorry for such things. It is a matter of choice whom we love, but once you have given your heart away, you never truly get it back. And caring for another is never something to regret."

Diana fiddled with her cane, not sure what to make of his words. A breeze blew and she felt she could almost smell the salty scent of faraway seas. She gave a shaky breath and felt a headache begin to throb behind her eyes. Her senses felt overwhelmed, she just did not understand, how could she not wish this pain away? She wanted a distraction.

"Tell me then. Who did you love?"

It came out harsher than she intended. She worried he might be hurt, Dinah had told her she should be more considerate in her words, but instead of getting irritated, he appeared as if he had only been waiting for her to ask.

This time he sat his cup to the side, sat up a little straighter, and check his collar as if even in memory he must treat this person with the highest respect.

"My father worked at the castle as a gardener during the time of Master Bruce's Grandparents. When I was twelve my father got me, a job working with him in the gardens. I enjoyed the work and wanted to continue working with him, but he had higher ambitions for me. So, when an opening appeared in the kitchens, he put me forward. That is how I met her. They needed more footmen for a party, and I was chosen. While serving the supper I accidentally dropped a tray of partridge pies. The butler was furious and banished me back down to the kitchen. But I'd never before seen a ball, and more than anything I yearned to hear the heavenly music. So, I snuck onto the open balcony of the ballroom, hid in a corner, and listened to the gorgeous sounds while I watched the stars."

Alfred smiled longingly.

"That's when she came out on the balcony. I was going to leave before she saw me but, a reel started to play, and, for some reason, I'll never understand, she began to dance, all by herself under the stars, waving a blue fan. How could anyone leave such a sight? Middle of the song she saw me, I tried to run but she grabbed my hand, and the next thing I knew we were dancing, the footman, and the lady."

He closed his eyes waiting as if he were listening for the violins to play again.

"Life has a way of changing all of us. As the years passed, she became reserved, keeping her emotions tightly in check. But that night I saw the carefree beautiful soul that few would ever know, and I will always be grateful. After the song ended, she asked me my name. We talked for some time, but when the music died, I knew the magic had ended and we must go our separate ways. As we said goodbye, she told me that she was glad she'd come to the party, because she'd gained a friend. She visited the Waynes many times over the years, and every time she sought me out, never missing the chance to catch up. When my father died, she was the first to write, I don't even know how she'd found out. Once I saw her on the street in London, she was with some very prestigious people and so I tried to not be seen, so as not to embarrass anyone."

He laughed softly.

"I should've known better than to try and hide. She stopped the carriage, climbed out, and ran across the street to greet me. I could see the flabbergasted expressions behind her and I tried to tell her to go back, that she need not worry about me when she had important guests to tend to. The hurt in her eyes is one of my greatest regrets. In an unyielding voice, she told me that, no one was more important than a friend."

"Did you marry her?" Diana asked wide-eyed.

Alfred looked at her sorrowfully, but she sensed his sorrow was not for himself.

"Nothing would have made me happier, but she never saw me in that way. She married, twice, but not to me. She did not need a lover; she needed a friend. And so, I was, from the first day we met until the last because I loved her. My beautiful, dark-haired, grey-eyed lady, my friend. Love is not confined to one form. When you love someone, you do so in whatever capacity you are allowed, and it is never lessened by it. The love of a friend is just as strong as the love of a spouse."

The world seemed to hush, the birds were silent, the breeze stilled, even the clouds held back, listening.

Diana blinked at him.

Gently, Alfred reached over and raised her arm so that the bracelet he had given her was in her sight. With a tap, he spun the pendent and the sun sparkled against the engraving.

"She gave me that, a long time ago, when she was scared and needed help. It was the last thing in the world she owned, she asked me to sell it, but I knew how much it meant to her, and I couldn't do it. I got her what money she needed, but when I tried to return her bracelet, she wouldn't take it. Everything is gone Affie, please don't return what little I can give."

A sweet smile settled on his face as he watched the pendent swing, seeing a time long gone.

"What was her name?"

Alfred looked up at her and pointed to the initial engraved on the now still pendent.

"Diana…Diana Lily…your grandmother, and the bravest woman I ever knew."

Diana's jaw dropped and she looked at the dignified butler with new eyes.

Her grandmother? Alfred had been in love with her grandmother?

"There's a lot of her in you, a bit of Hippolyta and Zachary too, and I imagine a great deal of your mother and sister as well. But never forget, though you share a great deal with those from your past they do not define who you are. You were given life so you could live it. It is up to you to decide how."

As if he'd said all there was to say Alfred began to pack up the basket and held out a hand to help her stand.

Her head was spinning as she held on to his hand just a moment longer.

"But what do I do Alfred?"

He patted her hand reassuringly.

"Love isn't about what you get Diana, it's what you give."

With that he bowed, took the basket in one hand, the blanket in the other, and walked back towards the trap that waited for his return, it was time to go.

Diana was still thinking about his words that night while she lay in bed, staring up at the canopy, begging it for answers.

I love him…so what do I do?

Though you share a great deal with those from your past they do not define who you are.

Was he saying to not be like her grandmother? To not ignore love as she seemed to have done?

The wind whistled outside her window, signaling another storm coming. Diana covered her ears with a pillow, trying to ignore it.

Why should I have to give up? Why is she the right one for you and not me?

Lightning flashed across the sky and she bolted up.

Love is about what you give. Wait, is that what he meant?

Curling her fingers into fists she hardened her resolve.

Alright then, I will be your friend, no matter what I will be there for you. And maybe one day, one day you'll change your mind, and I'll be there.

She was so sure, so confident that all she needed to do was wait and he would see, that he needed her too.