A/N: I feel terrible for waiting so long to write another chapter for this story but all of your amazing reviews inspired me to finally sit down and finish this part. I hope that you enjoy it. (There are so many other wonderful Bane/Talia fics out there now! Here's hoping that they update soon as well!)

Chapter 5

Today had been a rather rough day for Talia. Even since she arrived back from the Maddam's house and her father found her to be 'out of shape', her body had been pushed every day to return to it's physical peak. He had her waking up before dawn for a series of lifts and rigorous cardio. Afterwards a quick breakfast that she usually vomited up soon after when she would go through the martial art routines that took place at noon. Then, she would spar with the various Brotherhood members, whether it be hand to hand, grappling, or with weapons, until her father was satisfied that she was spent for the day and some improvement had been made. By the time dinner came around, the last thing she was craving was food. She'd rather just pass out on her bed and wait until the next morning to start the whole process over with. It's what she would likely do if it wasn't for-

"Go away,Bane" She groaned, pushing her head deeper into her pillow when she heard the door of her bedroom open. "I just want to rest for once," she grumbled, knowing that it would just lead to a quick argument that he'd inevitably win.

"You will rest only after dinner. Tomorrow will make you feel even worse if you do not eat anything before bed." She listened as his boots approached her bed and a weight settled on the edge of it.

"It hurts to move," She didn't feel bad about whining. He wouldn't tell her father.

His sigh in return was almost static because of the mask. "What's bothering you?" He asked, being patient with her.

Talia wondered at her luck. "My back?"

"Take off your shirt, little dove" It had not been a request.

A blush dusted across her cheeks, remembering one of the Maddam's many lessons. She knew that Bane had not asked it in a romantic sense, and he had seen far more of her than just her naked back.

Testing him, she got up, moving back onto her knees, untying the sash around her waist and sliding the material of her shirt off of her shoulders. Ever the gentleman, he did not watch as it fell from her body. Only when she returned to her position belly down on the bed did he turn back to her, one of his large palms coming to rest on her back. She bit back a moan as he started rubbing his fingers deeply into the muscle of her collar.

"Bane?" Talia spoke, lifting her head off of the bed to look at him as he worked. He responded with a questioning hum, his hands continuing to work across her back.

"Why do you call me your little dove?"

She waited as his hands paused on the skin of her back, his eyes looking intensely into her own. He took a moment to think.

"It had been fitting for you from the start." Bane's fingers brushed her bangs out of her eyes, his fingers lingering for a moment before pulling away.

"You were a small little thing, merely a wisp of a child. All skin and bones, it would have been so easy to crush you, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop your cruel fate." His fingers fell to her shoulders, absent mindedly tracing a pattern there. Talia knew that she had been weak when they had first met, unable to protect herself. A cage had protected her from the dangers outside that her mother had taught her to fear. Yet instead of letting her be crushed under the hands of hundreds of men, he allowed her to grow.

"So I held you, kept you safe, knowing that the day would come were I would have to let you go, to make you find your wings. To fly." And she did fly. Never before had her body felt so light as she flew across the space between the rocks. Her heart was heavy.

"And as I lay, broken, in a sea of men; Just a shell of a man who had all hope stolen from him, you returned, a promise of freedom in your grasp." His finger entwined with her own smaller hand. He had expected to die in that filth ridden pit.

"There had been a pastor living in the pit for a few years when I was just a boy. He once told me a tale of a man named Noah. It's a story told in many forms of religion, of a time where a god chose to flood the world because of all of the filth and corruption that populated it. At the end of the story, this man is stuck on a boat lost in an endless sea, the world flooded around him. He had been on the boat for days on end, hadn't seen dry land in months. Each day, he would release a single dove into the air, hoping that it would return with a sign of life. One day, the dove brought back a single olive branch. A sign of hope and the end of suffering. This dove never had to return to the man, but it cared enough to come back," His hand settled on her cheek.

"Unlike Noah, I didn't hope. I wished that you would fly away from the rotten hell you were born in and find your place in the world, as the dove could have. I never wanted you to turn back. Stuck in the hell that surrounded me, I didn't have any hope left in my soul. Not until I saw your face. Not until you returned to hell to save me." The raw emotion in his eyes was too much for her to bear. She had to turn away from him, pressing her face into the pillow.

"That is why you are my dove, Talia."

Talia could not stop the flow of tears from falling. It was beautiful.

Years later.

Talia's blue eyes took in the bright orange sunset beyond the towers of Gotham. A soft silk robe was tied around her waist as she stood barefoot in front of the tall, metal framed windows of the suite she was living in. Her hair was still done up, as she hadn't finished taking off Miranda's disguise. Yet again, she spent another day waste deep in the filth that was Gothem. Her slender hand reached up and attempted to rub the tension out of her neck.

She felt her lover approach her more than she heard him. For a heavy man, he was always unexpectedly silent. Large arms moved around her form, his hand settling firmly against her silk covered hips as he pulled her back into his chest. The rough texture of his coat melded against her own delicate form, the metal of his mask cold against her shoulder.

"Do you remember the tale of Noah?" She murmured softly, feeling her lover's thumb softly caress the tender skin of her hip. He paused in his ministrations, and she watched the reflection of him in the window look into her own eyes.

"How could I forget?" He waited for her to continue, curious.

"The God chose to flood the lands to cleanse it of it's sin," She turned in his hold, meeting his eyes, a hand reaching up to press against the metal covering his mouth. He understood. "But water has never fit us. Together, we are fire." Talia's hand slipped off of his face. "We will strike a flame in the heart of this city." Her lips pressed against this skin of his cheek.

"And we will burn it to the ground,"

A/N: Short but sweet. I do hope that this makes the wait a little more worth it. Thank you for continuing to read this story. I have another chapter that should be finished soon. I think that with my muse, I'll just skip around with her age and make these more like oneshot chapters, if that is alright. As always, I appreciate your wonderful reviews and love feedback!