Hello all! Thank you for taking the time out and clicking on my story! :) I hope you all enjoy.

And credits to AvariceN'Spice (I should've said this way before), whose story Multifarious served as inspiration to parts of this story. :)

EDITED.

I do not own Batman.

Without further ado, I bring to you,

A Marshellowtime Productions...

Nascent

Chapter One:

Brighter than sunshine

They had a piano.

The single thought repeated itself over and over within her head, growing faster and far more excited by the second as pale blue eyes, the shade of thinning glaciers, grew rounder and brighter as anticipation bubbled up in her chest.

They had a piano.

The distant rumble of chatter and ballroom music echoed along the walls, wispy, barely reaching for her as she slid a little further into the empty ballroom, the long walls arching high above her as the sleek, beautiful object of her affections gazed back at her.

And it was a beautiful piano too.

Well, it's probably expected considering how rich these people must be... Pandora couldn't help the longing sigh as she gazed wistfully at the glistening ebony before her.

Pandora bit the inside of her cheek, wary eyes flickering thoughtfully as she contemplated whether or not it was really worth it to touch something that wasn't hers. But oh my goodness it's just waiting to be played... The grand piano was far beyond anything she could ever imagine owning in the small little bakery she and her mother ran. And even though she was terribly attached to their run down piano back home, she was guilty of eyeing other, nicer pianos when she saw them.

A finger reached upwards and she idly tugged at a tousled braid thrown over her shoulder, messy brown locks sticking out at ends as the young girl gazed longingly at the musical instrument.

She'd been doing as she'd been told moments before, which was waiting around and helping out when needed as her mother rushed this way and that alongside other servants to ensure that the nice little gala that was being hosted went smoothly. Considering the fact that they were only catering for a larger company—she personally believed that her mother's sweets could do fine on their own but, eh, what could she do?—her main job had been to stay out of the way and bring little things here and there to help out.

So could anyone have really blamed her if she'd gotten a little curious and wanted to explore a bit?

She'd thought long and hard about the consequences she'd have to face if she left—which was only a few minutes really—but then again, if she didn't get caught there would be none. And this house was huge, what were the odds that she'd run into someone?

Slim.

She could probably explore the entire house and not run into anyone, to be honest. Her eyes had glittered, ideas and plans already running through her head when she stood, brushing off her small apron and skirt and silently tip toeing her way towards the large double doors that would lead out of the kitchen and into the manor.

When no one came running out to lecture her, a bright grin had touched her lips and she'd darted forward, practically skipping through the halls in excitement as she glanced left and right, eyes round with surprise and awe at the towering walls and sleek wooden floors beneath her. Whoever this Bruce Wayne was, he was loaded. She held back a fit of giggles as she ran past looming paintings and wove her way around glistening vases.

The hallways had seemed to stretch onwards endlessly, room after room passing by as she turned this way and that, running her fingers along the cool walls, feeling the gentle thrum of vibrations from the ballroom music somewhere in the house, the distant, dulled noise of chatter a low background sound as she turned around the corner and paused, eyes brightening.

She'd been running through another winding hall when a propped door had snagged her attention. The young girl had slid to a halt, gazing at the door with flickering eyes as pale blues brightened. Curiosity bubbled inside her, and while her mother was fond of reminding her that curiosity killed the cat, Pandora could only reach forward, slightly pushing the door open so she could poke her head through.

She'd have to remind her mother that satisfaction was what brought the cat back as a wide grin split her lips, pale blues becoming impossibly bright as she slipped into the room, her polished black shoes clacking against the wooden floors of the deserted ballroom, her mind focused on the large object taking up the center.

The sleek, glistening black grand piano practically called out to her as she ran her fingers along its sides, the spotless frame showing good care, but as she reached up on her toes, peeking over toward the inner works, she frowned, realizing it hadn't been played in ages. The beautiful instrument hummed, coaxing her to play as she risked a glance toward the door.

When no one came barreling through, yelling and scolding she smiled and slipped onto the seat, reaching down and adjusting the size as she scooted forward. With practiced ease she lifted the lid and hummed in pleasure at the glistening ivory keys, the little pieces seeming to hum in return, eager to be played.

One song couldn't hurt. Pandora's fingers hovered over the keys, a moment of hesitation as she bit her bottom lip and glanced back to the door. Right?

...right. With that she smiled, eyes gleaming as she brought her fingers down and pressed them softly against the keys.

The ringing, echoing sound that greeted her sent a shudder down her small spine and her smile widened, running a quick hand against the board as she listened to the echoing notes thrum back.

The piano seemed to hum impatiently, and without a moment to waste, Pandora's fingers began to move over the keys, years of hunching over and memorizing notes falling to play as she tapped and pressed, listening with a bright smile as the piano sang in return. The notes came to her like air, and she willed herself to shut her eyes as she continued to play, pleased with the echoing noise of the piano and the smooth ivory of the keys beneath her fingertips.

Her feet barely reached the pedals, tapping them in time and pressing down when that echoing note came. She felt her body sway from side to side as she moved with her hands, stretching and retreating, pounding and tapping as song after song began to flow from her fingers and into the beautiful instrument.

And for a blissful moment, all she could hear were the notes echoing in the wide room, her heart pounding in her chest, the sound of her breath and another's in the room—wait, what?

Her fingers slipped and Pandora's hands came crashing down on the keys, the echoing, flat sound shooting through her as she turned, gazing at the figure beside her.

Hair an impossibly dark shade of black spiked up atop his head, a slightly tan, firm complexion following the expanse of his face. He was young—a little older than herself probably, but there was an air of cool maturity that followed him, his shoulders square and taut in his impeccable suit, his hands in his pockets as he stood beside the stool gazing down at the keys with a slightly furrowed brow, as if realizing that the piano had finally stopped.

His eyes. Sharp, glistening, like hard cut emeralds and jewels, they were beyond green as the young boy blinked once, slowly, and then turned to face her.

Her own eyes were wide, round as she opened her mouth and closed it, mimicking a fish as she nearly toppled off the seat and simply stared, unsure of what to say or if whether or not she should just run to avoid any further trouble. But when his sharp gaze met hers, she found herself frozen in place, pinned by invisible hands as he simply stared, a calm, unreadable expression on his face.

The stare down seemed to go on for so long, that at first she couldn't even register the fact that his mouth was moving until she blinked, deciphering his words as he simply stared at her, no yelling, no tattling or inquiries, one simple command.

"Keep playing."

She blinked once more, startled, and he continued to stare at her, refusing to repeat himself. When Pandora realized he wasn't going to rat or kick her out, she slowly turned, confused and slightly mystified as she raised her hands, letting them hover above the keys before she let them fall.

A few awkward notes and then she was once more playing the notes, letting them slide onto the keys like silk as the boy stood beside her. Pandora watched him from the corner of her eye, taking in his hard features and his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, listening to the sound, and she smiled when he let his eyes fall shut as he simply listened and she simply played.

Questions and thoughts were swirling through her mind, all directed toward the mysterious boy at her side. But before she could even think to utter any of them, the particularly tricky part to the piece came up and she turned her attention to the keys, focusing and watching her fingers move deftly over the white pieces.

And like that she found herself falling into the piece, playing the notes over in her head as they came through like gunfire, it wasn't until the dwindling notes of the end rung in her ears that she paused, breathing little heavy puffs of air as she sat back, gazing at the humming piano in front of her, the boy silent beside her.

"...um, I'm sorry." Her voice seemed to cut through the afterglow like a knife and the boy blinked, awoken. "I was just wandering around and I found this and well—um, I just..." She shrugged, tugging at her braid. "The piano was begging to be played."

The corner of his mouth twitched at that, a calm look on his young face—she thought it was weird really, that he could pull off the kind of expression her father would wear when he should be laughing and running around like boys her age did—and she nearly jumped when he suddenly sat down on the stool beside her, his hands in his lap as he gazed at the keys.

Maybe there's something missing in his head. Pandora's eyes narrowed in thought. Mama always complains about some people having a few screws loose, well, people call me weird too but still...

"Again."

Pandora blinked once, twice, and then thrice for good measure as she turned, simply staring dumbly at the boy next to her as he turned, about a head taller than her as he gazed down and stared back. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened as she swallowed.

"Huh?"

A flicker through those emerald irises and the ebony haired boy's brow furrowed slightly. "The piece you were playing, I would like to hear it again."

"...oh...kay." Pandora was at a lost for words, confused and unsure of how to respond as she glanced to the piano and back to him. "You want to hear it...again?"

He simply stared at her, eyes narrowed slightly as they glinted in the golden lighting of the room, wild and almost challenging, and she blinked once more. "Or are you incapable of playing such a piece once more?"

She suddenly bristled at that, mimicking a cat fluffing its fur as she straightened, eyeing him with a critical gaze now as she drummed her fingers along the edge of the keys. "It's not an easy piece y'know. The solo's a tough nut when it comes to the crescendo at measure fifteen—"

"I doubt its difficulty." He responded easily, turning and facing the keys as he lifted his hands. "So do it again and we'll see how hard it actually is."

Wounded that this hot shot thought he could underestimate one of her toughest pieces that easy, Pandora sniffed, sitting up straighter as she shifted closer and hovered her hands over the keys. "Then I'm playing through the measures once each time—alright? See if you can keep up."

A snort left him and Pandora grinned, letting her fingers fly across the keys and through the first few measures. The boy beside her was silent, a rather focused look on his face as he listened to her. Blue eyes glimmered and she played through once more, his eyes following her hands as she hit them with more certainty this time.

"You played a note wrong that time."

Pandora spluttered, fingers nearly slamming once more into the keys as she straightened and quickly replayed through the measures once more, eyes narrowed in determination as the boy beside her simply sat, listening.

It didn't even bug her that she didn't know his name yet.

Escaping the forced chatter and mindless nonsense leaving the brainless dolls inhabiting his home, Damian had full intent on stalking back up to his room to look up cases instead of socializing with these foolish people.

While Grayson may have been a proud thing being showed around the floor, Damian doubted he could have lasted another minute within the stuffy confines. Tugging at his collar he swept down the halls, figuring he'd find a much more valuable use of his time than attempting to chat with the mindless women thrown his way by vain mothers in hopes of tying into the Wayne fortune.

As if. He nearly scoffed in the face of those empty eyes and glittering smiles. He refused to settle for some pretty bird to perch on his arm—no, he'd require something much more than that in a partner. But that was the least of his ideals at the moment when there was crime to fight and a city to look after—his city now.

He could still hear the clack of heels and the obnoxious waves of cologne and perfume as he turned and rounded down familiar halls, mapping his way back to his room as he moved to find the stairs. He'd deal with his father later, but be doubted he would really be upset with him, especially considering the dull look that had flickered across when one woman left and another couple approached him.

Ask Grayson to show up to these things. Damian raised his chin and stalked down the hall, moving in tempo with the music echoing down the halls. I will not be paraded around like some prized stallion.

It hit him then that there was music, rather good music too, flowing down the normally and purposely deserted hall. Green eyes narrowed, brows creasing as he followed the melodious tune—piano, they had a piano?—of course they did, he knew that, and turned sharply as he came to a halt beside a set of double doors.

Recognizing the unused, smaller ballroom, Damian paused, listening to the echoing, pounding notes as they echoed around him, swirling, lifting, jumping, and he found himself stepping forward and slipping into the room as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the pace.

He was met with the sight of a classic, singing grand piano. Notes left it like gentle hums, and his eyes moved to the small figure at the center, her eyes shut as she swayed, small body moving in time with the beat as her hands flew deftly across the keys. Dark to light brown locks fell over her shoulder in a braid, but his eyes fell to her hands, watching the small fingers hit the keys with surprising force as she played note after note, sound after sound echoing around him in a piece he wasn't familiar with as she smiled.

He contemplated alerting her of his presence and inquiring as to what she was doing in his home, fumbling with their things, and from the look of it, she appeared to be a worker—a child to one of the maids or carters perhaps. But some part of him kept still, his breathing soft as he listened, the notes flying and running around him in a melody.

His eyes remained glued to her hands, moving in some unseen dance as he followed the motions, the keys, and back to the young girl's face, figuring she could be no older than eight or nine as she swayed, smiling and shutting her eyes, not even sparing the keys a glance.

She was good, he'd give her that. Considering the way he'd been raised, there was never really time to admire such things like music and the arts, but it sounded rather pleasant so he'd assume for now it wasn't too bad. He found himself shifting closer, faintly impressed by the piece leaving her fingers and finding a spark of interest. While it was simply a piece, he wouldn't deny that it would do him no good save for the simple pleasure of knowing it.

Annoyed, and faintly in wonder, Damian said nothing and simply let the young girl continue to play, finding his eyes shutting as he simply listened, letting the music flutter around him.

And oddly, though he'd never say it out loud, it was...nice.

"You hit that note wrong again."

"What are you talking about—I clearly hit it right, see? Is that not the note?"

"It's the note." Pandora agreed, but she reached over Damian and played the measure once more, flashing him a look. "But it's wrong. You're pushing it too hard—you have to hit it softer than the last one because we're changing to piano."

A look of annoyance crossed his features, but after a moment, Damian played through once more, copying it perfectly, and Pandora nodded, humming in a pleased tone as he rolled his eyes. "Move on, you're going too slow."

Somehow, they'd managed to amazingly barrel through nearly the entire piece. It irked her after he'd continuously comment on little slip ups that she did compared to the first time—no one was perfect okay? But she would not stand for some kid she didn't even know criticizing the playing she'd been taught all these years. And after one comment and argument after the other, she'd scoffed and challenged him to learn even half the piece.

Though she still didn't know his name, she gotten a feel for the kind of guy he was—cold, snarky, rather rude, fierce, all in all reminding her of a wolf or some other vicious lone animal—but there was a strange undertone of this solidity that came with him.

Something Pandora found she rather liked as she continued to keep teaching him, slowing down despite his glares and walking through the measures.

"You hit it wrong again."

"If you'd make it clearer, I would get it right the first time."

"You've got to tap it," Pandora placed her hand over his and he tensed, watching as her smaller fingers gently pushed his own down. "Like water—not like some hammer."

"The note is all the same."

"You'll sound like some tone deaf elephant if you pound away like that." He flashed her an unimpressed look at her choice of words, but Pandora swept on, smiling as she played through the piece. "Tap it, don't pound it."

A moment and then he worked through it once more, softer this time than the first, and Pandora grinned. "You are teachable."

"While your teaching skills are barely sufficient."

"Who's teaching you now?"

"Whose piano are you using?"

Pandora pouted and he looked smug, turning around and playing through the measure once more, completely on point, and she rolled her eyes. "Alright, hot shot—" he narrowed his eyes at her but she ignored him. "This is where it gets hard, think you can keep up?"

He simply flashed her another dull look and she smirked, her fingers suddenly flying over the keys in a rapid movement. He was still beside her, emerald eyes narrowed in concentration, and Pandora peeked at him from the corner of her eye, smiling as she pulled her hands away and leaned back.

"How about that?"

He lifted his hands, waiting a moment, and Pandora was so sure this time he'd mess up until his hands flew across the keys, following her motions to the simple twitch of her finger, and her mouth dropped as she slumped. His hands turned upwards with a flourish and he turned to her, radiating triumph as his green irises glittered. "Next?"

"Alright, after that you have to move to these like this and—"

A resounding knock echoed throughout the large room and Pandora jolted, fingers crashing into the keys and sending out a groan as Damian frowned, looking faintly annoyed by the sudden disturbance.

"Master Damian," Pandora stared with wide eyes at the older man that had appeared by the door, graying hair by his temples and dressed impeccably for a butler. "Will you be returning to the ballroom this evening? Or shall I send word that you will be...preoccupied?"

Master Damian? Pandora frowned, looking confused for a moment before her mind clicked and she gaped, whipping her head around and gazing at Damian with wide eyes. If he called him master and he's a butler... Is this kid Bruce Wayne's son?

Did Bruce Wayne even have a son?

"I will be preoccupied, Pennyworth," the butler simply nodded. "We will be fine for the rest of the evening."

"I see," the butler paused for the briefest of moments before he turned to Pandora and the young girl jolted, looking startled that he'd even turned to her as he added, "Miss Pandora, I will inform your mother as to where you are. Enjoy your time."

"H-How did you—" But the man had already turned, closing the door with a soft click after him.

A brief moment of silence surrounded the two and Pandora, swallowing her initial surprise and slight wonder—she was so going to figure how he found out her name—swung her legs, glancing around the room before she coughed into her hand. "So... Your name's Damian?"

"And yours is a kitchen tool."

"It's Pandora! Like the Greek story!"

"You are referring to the foolish young girl who released all the impurities and evils onto the world."

"And hope. Everyone forgets that she also brought hope."

"A small mercy comparing to the large scale chaos brought into our world."

"...You're a large scale chaos." Pandora muttered, turning around in her seat and nearly whipping Damian with her braid had he not skillfully moved his head aside, flashing her an annoyed while faintly piqued gaze.

"Do yourself a favor Pan, and stick to the only thing you seem to be capable of."

"Like kicking your butt?"

And by the end of the night, a strange, wonderful, budding relationship was in the works. One to last through the triumphs and trials they would face.

Thank you all so much for taking the time out to read the story! :) I hope you've all enjoyed it so far, and look forward to the future chapters to come!

Despite the amount of stories I already have going on, I really couldn't resist finally writing one for Damian—because I mean, come on—and the ideas for this have been swirling around in my head for awhile.

The story will start off with the Pan at nine and Damian at ten, and start to span out over the years as they grow older. I won't dawdle to long on the younger years, just some build up before it plunges into the more heartier parts of the story. And I hope you'll all stick around to see what's in store! :D

Once again, thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed! Feel free to tell me what you think! :) And if you liked this story, a lot of the original concepts are inspired by Multifarious, so feel free to check that story out as well!

Marshmellow-

-OUT!