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It was possibly the Bat's worst kept secret, the fact that Robin III was a little bit magic.
Honestly, Robin I was too, but that was a different kind. Dick's type of magic was a visceral one, grounded in emotion, tradition, and history. His was the kind of magic that made tea to banish a cold and made stuffed animals banish nightmares. Salt on the forehead to fix a headache, stepping on a comb to break a streak of bad luck, giving someone an object held in the hand for three days to keep them safe. Dick had folk magic, the stuff of hedge witches and wives tales, and most times he didn't even realize he was using it.
Tim was different. Tim had Creature blood in him.
It was from his mother's side, and it was diluted- maybe a quarter, maybe an eighth, maybe even less- but it was there. Honestly, it usually didn't affect his life too much.
It meant he didn't have to sleep as often as most people. It gave him a sense of the truth, sometimes, when the truth was hidden by something otherworldly (like Bruce being trapped in the timestream instead of dead). It made him land a little lighter, sometimes. It gave him a connection and rapport, good or bad, with other Creatures.
Tim never thought that it could be used like this .
Ra's had bound him with an alloy that burnt his skin like acid, which didn't make any sense, because Tim wasn't pure enough to be affected by Cold Iron. But the first thing Ra's had done was stick a needle in his neck and inject him with something. He held a mirror in front of him, once Tim's being had stopped burning from the inside out.
Tim's eyes had grown, and he had less pupil now. His ears had pointed slightly. His hair looked almost feathery, in this light.
“Don’t worry, Detective,” said Ra’s, as he put the mirror down a few steps away from the Ritual circle Tim was inside. “The physical changes are temporary. I only need your Blood a bit closer to the surface, for my purposes.”
“And your purposes are?” Tim snarled, fighting the chains as hard as he could, even as they burnt him.
Ra’s laughed deep in his chest. “You’ll see soon, Little Bird. Just wait.” And he began to chant softly, in a language Tim could not make out.
Tim was here for some kind of Ritual, that much was obvious. He was in a circle, candles were lit, assassins had done purification rites on him before Ra’s came in, the body of a goat and other Preparations sat on a table Tim could barely see. But circle he was in was nothing that he recognized, and he couldn’t think of a single spell where a part-Creature’s Blood would have to be “closer to the surface” to work.
Ra’s reached into the surface and unbound Tim’s hands, still chanting. Tim, helpless inside the circle, cradled them close to this chest. Ra’s anointed both pulse-points on his wrists with something foul smelling.
Tim felt the magic crackle in the air. Something twisted unnaturally inside of him. His Blood roared at him to run, run and hide .
Ra’s pulled back. He examined Tim’s wrists, then smiled. It was a self-satisfied smile.
“Would you take a look at that?”
Heart in his throat, Tim did.
A mark had appeared on his skin, dark and oblong, like a blot of ink fallen from a fountain pen. Another on the opposite arm, in the same place. They burned lightly. They seemed to hum with energy.
Then, synchronized like dancers, they began to move and spread. The blots swirled up both arms, leaving trails, twisting into defined patterns and shapes. Horrifyingly specific, familiar shapes.
Binding runes .
“No!” Tim stared in horror at the marks that were creeping their way onto his skin. “No, no, you can’t!”
“I can, Timothy,” said Ra’s, voice silky smooth. “I just did, in fact.”
It was a Binding Ritual. Ra’s was Binding him. These marks bleeding up his arms were marks of slavery, marks of ownership. They were marks that stripped the one who bore them of their Free Will, and gave that Will to someone else.
I’m not a full fairy , thought Tim, panic consuming him. I’m not full Creature, this shouldn’t be working, this isn’t possible.
But, it seemed, Ra’s had found a way.
“I told you, Timothy. You would join me one day, whether you liked it or not.”
“Please.” The words fell out of his mouth, desperate. Tim didn’t care that he was begging, not now. Pride was nothing compared to freedom. “Please, Ra’s, don’t do this.”
Ra’s smiled again, and reached out to brush a thumb over Tim’s cheek. “I already did.”
But no, he hadn’t, Tim thought feverishly. The Ritual wasn’t over yet. There was still hope.
For a Binding to be sealed, there needed to be blood exchanged. And there needed to be a kiss.
Even as he thought that, Ra’s was running a dagger over his index finger. A drop of blood welled up on his skin.
“Open up,” he coaxed, leaning in close. Tim snapped his mouth shut like a petulant child. He turned his face away sharply.
Ra’s caught Tim’s face in a open palm and turned it up to face him. He delicately pinched Tim’s nose shut.
With a combination of Bruce’s training and his magic, Tim held out for nearly eight minutes before he gasped his mouth open, desperate for air. Ra’s struck, quick as a snake, and forced his blood down Tim’s unwilling throat.
The runes on his arms burned like hot irons, and Tim through his head back and screamed. He could feel the blood moving through him, consuming him. Changing him. Taking things away and twisting what was already there.
And already, Ra’s was leaning in, ready to kiss him, and then Tim would be lost. He struggled, still in vein.
God, please, not like this , he thought.
Then, one wall of the cavern Ra’s had them in exploded inwards. A piece of debris skidded across the floor, scratching and smudging the Ritual circle. The power of it broke, Tim could move again.
Jason barreled in first, guns literally blazing. Dick entered behind him, looking angrier than Tim had seen him in a long, long time.
“Baby bird!” Jason yelled, “out of the way!”
Tim staggered to his feet and started to run towards his brothers, hope souring in his chest.
“Timothy,” said Ra’s in soft, sure voice, “freeze.”
Tim did. He had no choice. His muscles refused to let him do anything else.
“Turn around and face me.” Ra’s was nearly whispering, but Tim could still hear him. His body did as commanded.
“Now,” he continued, “you stay nice and still.” He walked slowly towards Tim’s body.
And was promptly side-tackled by Jason. “Red Robin,” he growled through the hood, “ fucking run!"
But he couldn’t, Tim couldn’t. He could feel Ra’s’ blood inside him, and it was holding .
“What is taking so long?” called a young, arrogant voice from just inside the hole in the wall. He must have just entered.
Tim felt himself regain some control over his body, and realized two things in rapid succession.
First- until a kiss was given to seal the connection to the one Binder, it wasn’t only Ra’s’ blood inside of him. It was al Ghul blood.
And second- there was a way to save himself, at least in the short term.
Tim dashed across the room, barely able to resist the shouted demands to stop from Ra’s. He was the blood’s Source, but in this room, at this moment, the power was split. Because Ra’s was the Source, because it was his blood, he would always have more power. Tim would not be able to resist for long.
But Tim’s mother had taught him the Old Laws. And he remembered them.
“There’s only one thing that is stronger than a bond of Blood,” she said, “and that is an oath of Fealty, unasked for and freely given.”
Nothing could change the fact that there was al Ghul blood inside him now. But he could change which al Ghul he served.
Tim slid on his knees the last few feet to Damian. He knelt, gasping, at the boy’s feet.
“Drake,” Damian hissed through his teeth, “what on Earth are you doing? Get-”
But Tim wasn’t listening, there wasn’t time. He tore off the green Robin glove and clutched Damian’s bare hand.
“Damian Wayne,” he gasped out. Pain was searing through his body; Ra’s must have figured out what he was trying to do. Tim ignored it. “Damian al Ghul-Wayne, I swear my loyalty to you. You have my Fealty, from now until forever, though you never asked for it. This oath I swear by the Blood and the Wind and the Fire, by the Flying Creatures and the Forest Creatures, by the Ocean and the Moon. And by my words, so be it.”
And then Tim pressed his lips against the back of Damian’s hand, sealing it with a kiss.
The markings that had been running over his arms like roaches swarmed forward. They formed two rings around each of his wrists, still lightly burning. Some seemed to jump from his skin to Damian’s. The glyphs settled in a line, from the tip of his middle finger to the end of his right forearm.
Like a leash , Tim thought dully. A leash attached to the cuffs that now circled his wrists.
Tim could feel the poisonous feeling of Ra’s in his body drifting away, being replaced by something just as heavy but less malicious. Ra’s was screaming. So was Damian. So were Jason and Dick, now that Tim thought about it. He couldn’t make out any words they were saying. The ringing in his ears was too loud.
Tim fell from his knees to his side, and tears pricked his eyes. Just before unconsciousness took him, he saw Damian rush to join the battle, and thought about how little he looked like his Grandfather, these days.
He did not know if it was this thought or the darkness of sleep that gave him a bit of comfort before he let himself drift away.