Chapter Text
The death of The Joker, Robin’s disappearance, the Gordon’s injuries, and Penguin’s Gang War meant that Gotham was in chaos, and it was beautiful .
Now, the Court was never originally meant to be a monarchy, it was meant to be the king’s court. Where the Steward and Herald stood in equal position, running their own essential tasks behind the scenes, keeping the kingdom running with ease while the king puffed and pranced like a peacock, claiming that they ruled. Here, for the Court of Owls, the kingdom is Gotham, and depending on who you asked, the king was Gotham’s own Idiots In Charge or Wayne or even the god Barbatos.
(Yeah, Tim was also a bit concerned about the fact that the Court also had a foundation in a cult about Bats, but what can you do?)
So. The throne was never actually meant to be sat upon. Not until his mama took over and decided to revolutionise the Court. She sat on the throne as Grandmaster, as sovereign and representative of Gotham.
Now, she sat on the armrest of the throne, with Cobb standing in his customary to the right and two steps behind, while Tim sat on the throne. Gotham’s prince, never to be king, inheriting the throne from Gotham itself.
Tim didn’t have a crown, though he’s pretty sure that if he asked, his mama would make one for him in a heartbeat.
The Court, gathered before him, eyed him warily. 13 years old and already starting to take the reigns of the most secretive assassin society in the world.
“I predict a riot,” Tim states.
An Owl raised an eyebrow at such a bold and simplistic prediction, “A surprise, truly.” The Constable drawled sarcastically.
“Oh yes,” Tim said genuinely even as his mama tightened her grip on his shoulder. “Especially when it won’t be Batman or the GCPD who will end it, but rather Falcone’s rabid old mutts.”
Tim passed a simple letter, in cheap stationery, over to Jareth, the youngest and newest Talon of the Court. The blond carried the letter down to the Herald.
“Make sure Carmine Falcone gets that, won’t you,” Tim orders. “That has the tip that some of Penguin’s loyal men started the riot.”
“We are backing Falcone?” The Almoner asked, surprised.
“Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “The man is old, weak, and has far outlived his usefulness. Cobblepot is one of us, and we will support him.”
There’s approval in the eyes of the majority, even from the old Constable. However, the Page didn’t seem to approve.
“Cobblepot’s methods leave much to be desired,” They sneered.
Tim was unimpressed, “Gotham leaves much to be desired. That’s why we are here, to support those who deserve it, and maintain the old families.”
They cannot argue that.
“However, some old families are just… shameful .” He sighed.
The Majordomo wrinkled their nose, “You speak of Dumas.”
The Court were united on this point: The Dumas Family was an embarrassment to Gotham. They were to be hunted if they enter the borders of their kingdom, and it seems that finally one has decided to test the limits of their banishment.
“An upstart,” The Constable spat, disgusted to even hear the fallen house’s name.
“An opportunity,” Tim corrected. “Constable, how would you like your toy soldiers to chase after such a… regretful incident involving Dumas?”
The old Owl straightened, eyes gleaming at the opportunity his Prince was offering him and the GCPD he puppeted from the shadows. “A good distraction for them after the unfortunate accident with the Commisioner.”
“Perfect,” Tim smirks. “Dumas will soon be exterminated by their own ambition. Him and his sister will suffer for the sins of their fathers, and the sin they committed by breaking our laws, we who rule from our marble perches.”
The Court didn’t need to know Tim’s exact plans on how he was going to extinguish the Dumas family that gives them the most probable deniability and general ability to play off the entire affair as an accident that the Court has seen since its creation.
“Prince, there will still be the problem of the Dumas’ little… cult ,” The Chaplain pointed out, using the Court’s impeccable ability to use dramatic pauses and make words sound like the foulest of insults. The Owl was in charge of the Cult of Barbatos and the churches in Gotham, bribing each priest and clergy to do what the Courts wishes alongside the Majordomo.
“The Talons can deal with them,” Tim dismisses. “Let cause a little chaos before we slaughter them all and leave a few phantom surprises for the GCPD to chase.”
“You would risk exposing our Talons again?” The Page scowled.
“Risk?” Tim echoed, feigning surprise at the dissent. “There is a risk, yes, but this is also a choice. Can’t you see that? A man’s life, his future, hinges on each of a thousand choices. Living is making choices. And this choice that I am making has a risk, yes. However I am not a tyrant, I am asking you to make this choice with me. But I must point out the possibilities, the potential to strike at our enemies and defeat them once and for all. Risk: Risk is our business. That's what this Court is all about. That's why we're here. You may dissent without prejudice. Do I hear a negative vote?”
The Page weighed his words carefully before stepping down. There were no negative votes.
“Then, the Talons will take care of it. Grandfather, Falconer,” He addressed Cobb and the Owl in charge of the Talons’ training. “I trust you with this task. Court dismissed.”
The Owls disperssed into the curtains and hidden passageways of their Palace, one or two heading towards the Labyrinth below as it was a quicker route to their destinations.
Tim stood and watched them leave.
“You did well,” Cobb said with his cold eyes that seemed to warm ever so slightly when Tim displayed his proclivity for power.
Tim grinned, “Thanks Pop-pop!”
And there goes the warmth, replaced only with resigned annoyance, like Tim was a particularly playful kitten that an old lion like Cobb couldn’t get to stop bothering him.
“William is correct, sweetheart,” His mama pressed a kiss on his forehead. She doesn’t have to lean down to do that anymore. “You’re making us proud.”
“Oh good,” Tim relaxed. “So nobody realised that I was quoting Star Trek.”
It was very obvious the blood shared between all three of them when both Janet and Cobb froze at that information and sighed in resignation at the choices Tim seemed to enjoy making.
Yeah, Tim thinks he’s going to enjoy ruling the Court of Owls as its Prince.