FIC: Speedway
Title: Speedway (Part one of two.)
Rating: G (But second part is definate R.)
Mood: Anxious
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Bart and Tim gets transported to a world where Bart is mistaken for a God. Tim worries. Bart goes with it. Definate AU.
"That was close," Tim says, taking a moment to carefully not panic at having been suddenly transported from the Tower to another planet and almost used as some sort of ceremonial sacrifice. "What did you tell them, anyway?" Bart blushes.
"Uh. Well. They kind of think I'm a God." Tim smirks.
"Yeah, I got that part. I meant how did you convince them not to eat me?" Bart blushes fiercer. Tim frowns.
"WelluhIknowabitaboutthisculturecauseIwasdoingsomereadingwhileIwasatlegionheadquarterswhenIwasboredandIstudiedabunchofculturesandtherewasreallyonlyonethinkIcouldtellthemtoconvincethemnottomakeyouintoaTimkabobsoIkindatoldthemyouweremylover."
"Oh," Tim says and blushes.
"Seetheyknowyouaren'tagodandIneededtotellthemsomethinganditiscommonforgodtotakemortalumloversintheirculturesoIjust--"
"Bart. It's okay. I'm just happy I won't be roasted. It'll just be a little awkward is all." Just then, one of the aliens join them. He bows low and babbles away at Bart in some strange dialect Bart had luckily learned during one of his speed-reading sessions. Bart gives a stately nod, and the alien stands, leaving the room. Bart does so as well, gesturing for Tim to follow them.
Tim really wishes they were in costume, because getting randomly transported into the past of some other planet is bad enough without having to do it in civilian guise.
They are led through the temple, and people throw themselves on the ground as they pass. Tim feels decidedly awkward, but maintains an external calm. Bart seems to be pulling off the God role remarkably well. Eventually they come to a stop. A few more aliens join, bowing and rising once Bart nods to them.
Bart and the aliens talk for a short while, and Tim resolves to learn some more languages. Obviously, eleven just isn't enough. And he only knows Earth languages. That was clearly a mistake.
Bart turns to him, and there is a look of apology in his eyes for a second before he kisses him on the forehead, beside each ear, and then on the forehead again.
"They're going to find you some clothes and stuff before the banquet. They promised to take care of you," he says quietly, before nodding and being led off to do who knows what. Tim stands still.
The aliens left touch his arms lightly, looking at him in wonder. One gestures towards a door, and Tim follows him through it. Tim blushes as the humanoid aliens begin to help him undress, taking off his shirt, but quickly pushes it back.
They stare at his scars, and especially at the knife holstered at his back.
"G'ulha," says the main one, with respect, nodding his head. Tim smiles uncertainly and nods back. The alien frowns. "G'ulha," he says again, pointing to a picture of a warrior on a vase.
"Warrior," says Tim, nodding. "G'ulha." Apparently there is something important about that. Tim will have to ask Bart later. He undresses the rest of the way, and the aliens hand him a robe. He slips it on and is led to a bath, then left, although there are guards. His knife gets left for him beside the tub, although his holster is taken.
When he climbs out of the tub, towels are handed to him, and clothes set out. Tim is somewhat thankful for the help he gets in dressing, because he has no idea how to fasten all the catches in the right order. They also provide a leg holster for his knife, although it cannot be seen under the final robe that goes over the rest of his clothing.
He feels quite ridiculous. But at least he smells nice, after the bath.
He is then through more of the temple, to a large dining hall. Bart is already seated at the head table, in a large, ornate throne. The clothes he is wearing should look funny, but they really just look... majestic. Tim refrains from shaking his head.
He is seated in a smaller throne at Bart's left side. An elderly, richly dressed alien is on his right, and Tim assumes him to be some kind of priest. Dinner passes incredibly slowly, and everyone seems to watch Bart's every move. Bart says a few words every now and then, and quiet chatting goes on at the lower tables, but until the table is cleared all is silent.
Tim waits for a cue from Bart as to what to do. Tim hates not knowing what to do, not being able to plan, but he does trust Bart to get them through this until they can get back to their own time. World. Whichever.
Bart stands, and nods to the room, giving a silent wait then follow signal to Tim. He leaves the room, and then everyone stands. Tim heads in the direction Bart went, accompanied by several others. Eventually, they reach a smaller room that is still richly decorated. Bart lounges on a long couch, looking haughty and impatient. The aliens bow, and Bart makes a gesture and they all sit. Tim takes a seat as well.
The priest says a few words. Bart nods sagely, and begins talking.
He's telling a story, Tim can recognize from the tone of voice. It's about a battle. Tim can pick out that "Is'hn'na" must be the name of whoever Bart apparently battled. Most likely it’s some evil God. He also picks up the word "G'ulha" used a few times.
Other than that, he has no idea what Bart's talking about. But Bart's audience seems fascinated. After a few more stories, and Bart talking with a few of the people, Bart rises, speaks to the alien that had called Tim "G'ulha" earlier, and leaves the room, followed by most of the aliens in the room.
Tim is left alone with the alien Bart had last talked to. Soon enough, more aliens enter the room, and they look familiar.
"Y'ur'ash," says the main one, placing his hand on his chest. He then holds it out towards Tim. He wants Tim's name, Tim realizes.
"Timothy," he says, deciding that "Tim" was probably too short to give.
"Tm'oth'Y," the Y'ur'ash repeats, then bows his head to him. Tim bows his head back. Y'ur'ash straightens, smiling, then makes a follow gesture.
They take him to a bedroom, and help him to undress again. This time, however, he is only left with a short, white, skort-like contraption to wear. His knife is set upon one of the nightstands with great care, and a platter of some sort of fruits is put on the low table sitting in front of the couch that occupies the front of the room. He is then left alone again, and he can hear guards taking places on either side of the door.
There is another door, and upon quick investigation, Tim finds it leads to a bathroom. Tim decides he might as well sleep, and pulls back the long white drapes that obscure the bed and climbs into it, letting them fall back into place.
He is just falling asleep when he hears the door open. He cans see the outlines of people through the drapes, and he recognizes Bart's voice. A few moments later, the majority of people leave, and Bart slides through the hangings onto the bed. And blushes.
"Oh," he says, "Hi Tim." Tim feels incredibly conscious of the fact he's wearing next to nothing. Bart is wearing a short black silk robe. And he seems to be staring.
The scars, of course. Tim bites his lip. Bart hesitantly touches one of the more prominent ones. "You're... I'm sorry," he says, pulling his hand away. Tim doesn't look at him.
"It's okay. So. Goodnight." He settles to the far right of the bed, and Bart climbs under the covers at the left.
"Goodnight," Bart says quietly.
When Tim wakes up, Bart's already gone. He climbs out of bed, uses the bathroom, and finds people waiting to help him dress when he gets back in the room.
He does not see Bart again until after lunch, when they attend some sort of games. Tim classifies it as vaguely reminiscent of medieval, except, thankfully, there seems to be no killing, or at least so far. Apparently, they only kill outsiders.
What happens next is surprising, to say the least. A group of men in Black robes appear, shouting towards them. Bart frowns, and stands, causing most to bow. The men on the playing field do not. Bart speaks with them, looking more displeased with every second. Tim looks at him questioningly. Bart sighs.
"They want to fight you."
"What? Why?" Bart frowns in the way that means he's trying not to blush.
"It seems that everyone knows we didn't have sex last night. They're challenging you, because if you still, umm, have my favour, then you'll win, and if you don't, well, the winner becomes, well er--"
"I'll take the challenge." There's really no other option, anyway.
"Tim, I don't-"
"You know I've taken on bigger fish then *them*," Tim laughs. Bart frowns, and then purposefully kisses him right on the mouth. Tim raises an eyebrow.
"Go then," he says, smiling. "I guess I'm in for a good show." But Tim can see he's still worried. Bart doesn't have to be at all. He walks down to the area, and the people whisper and stare as he goes. Y'ur'ash meets him as he arrives on the ground level, and takes his over robe. Tim is then offered a variety of weapons. Tim shakes his head, and then makes a very deliberate show of taking off his knife and holster and handing it over.
A murmur runs through the crowd. He steps out into the field.
The first of the men and women gathered tosses aside his robe and comes at him with an axe. Tim grins, steps to the side, gets in a quick nerve strike and watches him go down. Only partial paralysis, Tim didn't want them to think he'd killed him. The man moans. People come to carry him off the field.
The next one comes at him.
By the time he's put down his fifth opponent, he's wondering at just how little these people seem to know about hand to hand combat. They seem fully prepared for some sort of weapons duel, but his quick dodges followed by nerve strikes seem beyond them.
He's getting a little frustrated with this by his second last opponent, though this one has managed to avoid being knocked out for a whole two minutes so far. None of them have laid a hand or blade on him yet though. This one's using something like a bo staff, but his technique makes him wince. It's like he thinks it's a club or something. There's no grace to the movements. Tim sighs and decides to do something showy and flips right over the man to avoid being hit, and hits a nerve before landing neatly.
The last one comes at him, and Tim stands dead still. He does his best Bruce impression. The man slows. Tim cocks his head with an "I'm waiting" expression on his face. The man hesitantly raises his sword. Tim snatches his sword, and sets it down on the ground between them. The man surrenders.
The crowd cheers, and Tim ignores them, going to collect his robe and knife before heading up to sit beside Bart again. Bart gives him a regal looking nod, and there is an amused twinkle in his eye. The rest of the games continue, and soon finish, with awards given to the champions. Bart claps for them, then looks to Tim with an amused smile.
Tim notes that none of the champions challenged him. Barely any of the challengers were ones that did well. Tim's somewhat relieved at that, because if they were the best there, it did not say much. Those who had challenged him were young too, probably his age, with only a few exceptions. Young, reckless, and probably not finished their training.
That would explain a lot, though still not how they had no idea how to deal with hand to hand combat. Once again, Tim regrets not knowing the language.
After the ceremonies are finished, he is led to another bathing room, and provided with another set of clothing for yet another banquet.
This one is held at a palace instead of the temple however, and they get a horse-and-carriage reminiscent ride through the city. It's really quite beautiful, and reminds Tim of ancient Rome a little, the same stunning and impossible seeming architecture.
This banquet has far more people at it, and seems to be some sort of ceremony. There are many chants and dances that go on, and Tim watches with amusement as Bart has to make a speech. They're really very lucky Bart does so much obscure reading, because the crowd cheers for whatever he said once he's finished and then they all head out to the palace gardens.
It's absolutely gorgeous, and Tim realizes the festivities are in relation to the meteor shower that happens. Tim is seated beside Bart, and therefore gets one of the best views offered, watching the lights falling over the river. Boats come, and he and Bart get a private one, other than the people rowing it.
Tim should ask Bart how to say 'thank you' in the language. Tim is about to when he notices Bart's frown instead of blush face again.
"What is it now?" Bart sighs.
"I should expect you'll have a few more challenges before we get home. It's... well, if they think we're not... they'll think I'm keeping you until something better comes along, or worse,"
"They might start to become suspicious and we don't want to be executed," Tim finishes, and sighs. "Well. We're in semi-public now. I guess we can, uh, make out or something." He can't help the tiny blush, but it's hopefully unnoticeable in the dark. Bart nods, then bites his lip before pushing Tim back against the cushions in the boat and kissing him hard. Tim kisses back, and it's really not that bad. Bart's a good kisser. Plus, it's not like they're kissing kissing, they're maintaining a cover.
They continue their make-out session until they reach the shore. Bart sits up right, and blurs for a moment before his hair and clothes are perfectly back in order, and his lips don't look swollen at all anymore.
Tim catches a glance of himself in the river as he leaves the boat, and he looks like he's been kissed within an inch of his life. He's just glad Dick isn't here.
They eat another meal, at a small building by the river. Bart's probably starving, what with his metabolism, and thankfully they always give him ridiculously large servings. Which Bart eats, of course. It would probably be some sort of slight if he didn't. Tim's just glad they serve him regular portions, because he doesn't want to gain weight. He's not doing nearly enough training or practicing as it is.
It is starting to get light again when they finally get back to the temple, and Bart and Tim collapse into bed once they're alone. Tim wakes up because the arms wrapped around him are moving, and finds that Bart is disentangling himself from Tim to climb out of the bed. Tim sits up, and finds they aren't alone. Bart nods to him, pushing him down to the bed again and Tim gives him a wry smile. Tim knows how hard it must be for Bart to remain serious for such long periods of time, and it must be losing it's charm. He suspects Bart has been having some super-speed jaunts while no one is looking just to survive it.
He gets up once Bart has left. Today, Tim has white clothes that are a bit too translucent for his liking to change into, but Tim dons them none the less. He wonders what happened to his jeans and t-shirt. Thankfully, he is than given a black robe to put over them. He is led to a chamber, where Bart is seated already, in an even more ornate outfit than usual. They've given him some sort of headpiece and Tim would laugh, but it really just adds to the powerful divinity look.
Tim has a seat on the dais with Bart, though on a floor cushion rather than a throne like Bart has. It seems like it is question and answer period. Most answers seem to be short, but eventually someone asks a question, gesturing towards Tim. Bart nods sagely, before launching into story telling voice again.
Tim concentrates on Bart's body language and gestures, and manages to figure out what was asked. Apparently, Bart has launched into some sort of story of how Tim gained his favour after journeying into the other realms to do great battle. He can tell about the great battle part because no matter what language Bart talks in, no one can misunderstand his 'and then there was a big explosion' gesture.
Tim sighs. He would rather they didn't have any more reason to pay attention to him.
There are more questions, and finally someone presents Bart with a bunch of wooden pieces. Tim sits up a little straighter. It's a puzzle. It must be some sort of logic puzzle, supposedly only solvable by a God or one favoured by a God. This could mean trouble.
However, Bart throws the pieces up in the air. There is a blur of motion, and a few seconds later, Bart is standing in the exact same position, holding the wooden pieces, assembled into a figure that looks scarily like Bart. Tim is impressed. He wouldn't have guessed the pieces to assemble to look like that. Of course, there's no telling how much time Bart actually spent putting it together. Everyone in the room bows, and Tim follows suit, though he only bows his head.
Bart frowns at him, and nods at the room. The people begin to file out of the room, and eventually it's just a few people.
"Tim, please don't bow to me," Bart says quietly, eyes bright with... something.
"Okay," Tim says. Bart kisses him, then leads his group from the room. Tim is left with Y'ur'ash again. Tim smiles at the man, who gestures for him to follow. He leads Tim through the temple to the lower levels. He eventually leads Tim into a small room.
There are two chairs, and Y'ur'ash gestures for him to take a seat. When he does, he sits down across from him.
"Is this how you form your words?" he asks. Tim blinks.
"Yes," he says hesitantly, startled at this. Y'ur'ash smiles.
"Good. I have... powers... with language. Wanted to ask questions. That okay?"
"Of course."
"Good. The My'br'ta'mol'we'mue. You call him something else. Why?"
"He asked me to." Y'ur'ash gives him a knowing smile.
"Today he asked you not to bow. Between you is great love, no?" Tim nods, because there's really no other way to answer. " I thought so. Is it too improper to ask... why he not yet married you?" Tim sighs.
"It's... fine. It's just..." Tim thinks fast, and settles for "complicated. The other gods... do not approve." Y'ur'ash looks confused a moment, and Tim hopes that he didn't misunderstand Bart when he said there were other gods in this culture.
"Of course. These are the years of Th'uy'idh'oh. He does not want to upset the balance." Tim nods like he has some idea of what Y'ur'ash is talking about. "It was much talked of, when he announced you as his lover, and more talked of when it was noted you did not perform any acts of love. Many of our youth wanted to gain favour, thinking he had come in search of another. The older were wise enough to wait and see. For My'br'ta'mol'we'mue to announce a lover is news. There is old legend of him, saying he quest for a soul mate and would only find at greatest need for one. The things with the gods, they are not so good. We can all tell, it shows in the watch-stones. They have all gone black. You have been to their realm. You could tell perhaps." Y'ur'ash produces a black globe and hands it to him. It goes clear, and Tim can see Wally as the Flash fighting whoever was possessing Max's body.
He nearly swears. Y'ur'ash inhales sharply. Apparently, these people worship the Flashes. This is getting even more bizarre. "It doesn't usually show much, just bits. It knows you."
"I know what this is," Tim sighs. He hands the globe back, and it returns to black. "One of the Gods was cast out of his body and trapped in the Speed Force, and an evil spirit has his body now. Another is also in the speed Force, perhaps permanently."
"The gods are at war with the Undergods," whispers Y'ur'ash. "It is as we feared. Your scars, some look like nothing I have seen. You have been fighting with them?" Tim nods. "Is there any sign of end?" Tim sighs.
"Not currently. Perhaps, a few years."
"My'br'ta'mol'we'mue has come here for some purpose in that?" he asks.
"I don't know," Tim replies honestly. Y'ur'ash looks apologetic.
"I should not have asked. Gods have business no mortals may know, of course. It must be difficult for you. The My'br'ta'mol'we'mue may not marry you until the war over and it is safer to anger others. You are not in a position of same... respect. It upsets him as well. Could tell, when he asked you not to bow, and when he asked me to look out for you."
"He is... I know him." Y'ur'ash nods, then frowns.
"So sorry, we must arrive at banquet soon. Come, it is my honour to be your guide."
"Thank you," Tim says. Y'ur'ash smiles.
"No thanks are required." They go to the banquet hall, the same as from the first night. Tim notes that Y'ur'ash is also seated at the Head Table. Tim guesses him to be some sort of teacher. He looks at the people at the lower tables carefully. The main attraction is Bart of course, but he recognizes the looks he's getting, it's the same ones that Bruce's dates get. Tim doesn't like it, the curiosity, the collective decision that he's not good enough, that he's... Tim just doesn't like it. He keeps as silent as every other night, and there are, for once, not after dinner activities before they retire for the evening.
Tim waits until they're in bed to recount the afternoon's surprises, in a low voice. Bart looks startled by it all.
"So you mean... when I was reading about all those traditions... they somehow have a connection to the Flashes? These globe things, they showed you Wally?"
"Yes." Bart looks pensive for a moment.
"Then maybe there is some way on this planet that we can help get Max back. I'll have to start investigating tomorrow."
"How are you planning on doing that?" Bart frowns a moment, then smiles.
"Easy: they offered that I tour all the temples in the main citadel and see if they met my approval at some point, I'll just ask to do that. I can do a couple Super-speed recon trips while I'm at it. Come on, get some sleep, I'll go arrange things."
~
End part the first
Onto part two!
Rating: G (But second part is definate R.)
Mood: Anxious
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Bart and Tim gets transported to a world where Bart is mistaken for a God. Tim worries. Bart goes with it. Definate AU.
"That was close," Tim says, taking a moment to carefully not panic at having been suddenly transported from the Tower to another planet and almost used as some sort of ceremonial sacrifice. "What did you tell them, anyway?" Bart blushes.
"Uh. Well. They kind of think I'm a God." Tim smirks.
"Yeah, I got that part. I meant how did you convince them not to eat me?" Bart blushes fiercer. Tim frowns.
"WelluhIknowabitaboutthisculturecauseIwasdoingsomereadingwhileIwasatlegionheadquarterswhenIwasboredandIstudiedabunchofculturesandtherewasreallyonlyonethinkIcouldtellthemtoconvincethemnottomakeyouintoaTimkabobsoIkindatoldthemyouweremylover."
"Oh," Tim says and blushes.
"Seetheyknowyouaren'tagodandIneededtotellthemsomethinganditiscommonforgodtotakemortalumloversintheirculturesoIjust--"
"Bart. It's okay. I'm just happy I won't be roasted. It'll just be a little awkward is all." Just then, one of the aliens join them. He bows low and babbles away at Bart in some strange dialect Bart had luckily learned during one of his speed-reading sessions. Bart gives a stately nod, and the alien stands, leaving the room. Bart does so as well, gesturing for Tim to follow them.
Tim really wishes they were in costume, because getting randomly transported into the past of some other planet is bad enough without having to do it in civilian guise.
They are led through the temple, and people throw themselves on the ground as they pass. Tim feels decidedly awkward, but maintains an external calm. Bart seems to be pulling off the God role remarkably well. Eventually they come to a stop. A few more aliens join, bowing and rising once Bart nods to them.
Bart and the aliens talk for a short while, and Tim resolves to learn some more languages. Obviously, eleven just isn't enough. And he only knows Earth languages. That was clearly a mistake.
Bart turns to him, and there is a look of apology in his eyes for a second before he kisses him on the forehead, beside each ear, and then on the forehead again.
"They're going to find you some clothes and stuff before the banquet. They promised to take care of you," he says quietly, before nodding and being led off to do who knows what. Tim stands still.
The aliens left touch his arms lightly, looking at him in wonder. One gestures towards a door, and Tim follows him through it. Tim blushes as the humanoid aliens begin to help him undress, taking off his shirt, but quickly pushes it back.
They stare at his scars, and especially at the knife holstered at his back.
"G'ulha," says the main one, with respect, nodding his head. Tim smiles uncertainly and nods back. The alien frowns. "G'ulha," he says again, pointing to a picture of a warrior on a vase.
"Warrior," says Tim, nodding. "G'ulha." Apparently there is something important about that. Tim will have to ask Bart later. He undresses the rest of the way, and the aliens hand him a robe. He slips it on and is led to a bath, then left, although there are guards. His knife gets left for him beside the tub, although his holster is taken.
When he climbs out of the tub, towels are handed to him, and clothes set out. Tim is somewhat thankful for the help he gets in dressing, because he has no idea how to fasten all the catches in the right order. They also provide a leg holster for his knife, although it cannot be seen under the final robe that goes over the rest of his clothing.
He feels quite ridiculous. But at least he smells nice, after the bath.
He is then through more of the temple, to a large dining hall. Bart is already seated at the head table, in a large, ornate throne. The clothes he is wearing should look funny, but they really just look... majestic. Tim refrains from shaking his head.
He is seated in a smaller throne at Bart's left side. An elderly, richly dressed alien is on his right, and Tim assumes him to be some kind of priest. Dinner passes incredibly slowly, and everyone seems to watch Bart's every move. Bart says a few words every now and then, and quiet chatting goes on at the lower tables, but until the table is cleared all is silent.
Tim waits for a cue from Bart as to what to do. Tim hates not knowing what to do, not being able to plan, but he does trust Bart to get them through this until they can get back to their own time. World. Whichever.
Bart stands, and nods to the room, giving a silent wait then follow signal to Tim. He leaves the room, and then everyone stands. Tim heads in the direction Bart went, accompanied by several others. Eventually, they reach a smaller room that is still richly decorated. Bart lounges on a long couch, looking haughty and impatient. The aliens bow, and Bart makes a gesture and they all sit. Tim takes a seat as well.
The priest says a few words. Bart nods sagely, and begins talking.
He's telling a story, Tim can recognize from the tone of voice. It's about a battle. Tim can pick out that "Is'hn'na" must be the name of whoever Bart apparently battled. Most likely it’s some evil God. He also picks up the word "G'ulha" used a few times.
Other than that, he has no idea what Bart's talking about. But Bart's audience seems fascinated. After a few more stories, and Bart talking with a few of the people, Bart rises, speaks to the alien that had called Tim "G'ulha" earlier, and leaves the room, followed by most of the aliens in the room.
Tim is left alone with the alien Bart had last talked to. Soon enough, more aliens enter the room, and they look familiar.
"Y'ur'ash," says the main one, placing his hand on his chest. He then holds it out towards Tim. He wants Tim's name, Tim realizes.
"Timothy," he says, deciding that "Tim" was probably too short to give.
"Tm'oth'Y," the Y'ur'ash repeats, then bows his head to him. Tim bows his head back. Y'ur'ash straightens, smiling, then makes a follow gesture.
They take him to a bedroom, and help him to undress again. This time, however, he is only left with a short, white, skort-like contraption to wear. His knife is set upon one of the nightstands with great care, and a platter of some sort of fruits is put on the low table sitting in front of the couch that occupies the front of the room. He is then left alone again, and he can hear guards taking places on either side of the door.
There is another door, and upon quick investigation, Tim finds it leads to a bathroom. Tim decides he might as well sleep, and pulls back the long white drapes that obscure the bed and climbs into it, letting them fall back into place.
He is just falling asleep when he hears the door open. He cans see the outlines of people through the drapes, and he recognizes Bart's voice. A few moments later, the majority of people leave, and Bart slides through the hangings onto the bed. And blushes.
"Oh," he says, "Hi Tim." Tim feels incredibly conscious of the fact he's wearing next to nothing. Bart is wearing a short black silk robe. And he seems to be staring.
The scars, of course. Tim bites his lip. Bart hesitantly touches one of the more prominent ones. "You're... I'm sorry," he says, pulling his hand away. Tim doesn't look at him.
"It's okay. So. Goodnight." He settles to the far right of the bed, and Bart climbs under the covers at the left.
"Goodnight," Bart says quietly.
When Tim wakes up, Bart's already gone. He climbs out of bed, uses the bathroom, and finds people waiting to help him dress when he gets back in the room.
He does not see Bart again until after lunch, when they attend some sort of games. Tim classifies it as vaguely reminiscent of medieval, except, thankfully, there seems to be no killing, or at least so far. Apparently, they only kill outsiders.
What happens next is surprising, to say the least. A group of men in Black robes appear, shouting towards them. Bart frowns, and stands, causing most to bow. The men on the playing field do not. Bart speaks with them, looking more displeased with every second. Tim looks at him questioningly. Bart sighs.
"They want to fight you."
"What? Why?" Bart frowns in the way that means he's trying not to blush.
"It seems that everyone knows we didn't have sex last night. They're challenging you, because if you still, umm, have my favour, then you'll win, and if you don't, well, the winner becomes, well er--"
"I'll take the challenge." There's really no other option, anyway.
"Tim, I don't-"
"You know I've taken on bigger fish then *them*," Tim laughs. Bart frowns, and then purposefully kisses him right on the mouth. Tim raises an eyebrow.
"Go then," he says, smiling. "I guess I'm in for a good show." But Tim can see he's still worried. Bart doesn't have to be at all. He walks down to the area, and the people whisper and stare as he goes. Y'ur'ash meets him as he arrives on the ground level, and takes his over robe. Tim is then offered a variety of weapons. Tim shakes his head, and then makes a very deliberate show of taking off his knife and holster and handing it over.
A murmur runs through the crowd. He steps out into the field.
The first of the men and women gathered tosses aside his robe and comes at him with an axe. Tim grins, steps to the side, gets in a quick nerve strike and watches him go down. Only partial paralysis, Tim didn't want them to think he'd killed him. The man moans. People come to carry him off the field.
The next one comes at him.
By the time he's put down his fifth opponent, he's wondering at just how little these people seem to know about hand to hand combat. They seem fully prepared for some sort of weapons duel, but his quick dodges followed by nerve strikes seem beyond them.
He's getting a little frustrated with this by his second last opponent, though this one has managed to avoid being knocked out for a whole two minutes so far. None of them have laid a hand or blade on him yet though. This one's using something like a bo staff, but his technique makes him wince. It's like he thinks it's a club or something. There's no grace to the movements. Tim sighs and decides to do something showy and flips right over the man to avoid being hit, and hits a nerve before landing neatly.
The last one comes at him, and Tim stands dead still. He does his best Bruce impression. The man slows. Tim cocks his head with an "I'm waiting" expression on his face. The man hesitantly raises his sword. Tim snatches his sword, and sets it down on the ground between them. The man surrenders.
The crowd cheers, and Tim ignores them, going to collect his robe and knife before heading up to sit beside Bart again. Bart gives him a regal looking nod, and there is an amused twinkle in his eye. The rest of the games continue, and soon finish, with awards given to the champions. Bart claps for them, then looks to Tim with an amused smile.
Tim notes that none of the champions challenged him. Barely any of the challengers were ones that did well. Tim's somewhat relieved at that, because if they were the best there, it did not say much. Those who had challenged him were young too, probably his age, with only a few exceptions. Young, reckless, and probably not finished their training.
That would explain a lot, though still not how they had no idea how to deal with hand to hand combat. Once again, Tim regrets not knowing the language.
After the ceremonies are finished, he is led to another bathing room, and provided with another set of clothing for yet another banquet.
This one is held at a palace instead of the temple however, and they get a horse-and-carriage reminiscent ride through the city. It's really quite beautiful, and reminds Tim of ancient Rome a little, the same stunning and impossible seeming architecture.
This banquet has far more people at it, and seems to be some sort of ceremony. There are many chants and dances that go on, and Tim watches with amusement as Bart has to make a speech. They're really very lucky Bart does so much obscure reading, because the crowd cheers for whatever he said once he's finished and then they all head out to the palace gardens.
It's absolutely gorgeous, and Tim realizes the festivities are in relation to the meteor shower that happens. Tim is seated beside Bart, and therefore gets one of the best views offered, watching the lights falling over the river. Boats come, and he and Bart get a private one, other than the people rowing it.
Tim should ask Bart how to say 'thank you' in the language. Tim is about to when he notices Bart's frown instead of blush face again.
"What is it now?" Bart sighs.
"I should expect you'll have a few more challenges before we get home. It's... well, if they think we're not... they'll think I'm keeping you until something better comes along, or worse,"
"They might start to become suspicious and we don't want to be executed," Tim finishes, and sighs. "Well. We're in semi-public now. I guess we can, uh, make out or something." He can't help the tiny blush, but it's hopefully unnoticeable in the dark. Bart nods, then bites his lip before pushing Tim back against the cushions in the boat and kissing him hard. Tim kisses back, and it's really not that bad. Bart's a good kisser. Plus, it's not like they're kissing kissing, they're maintaining a cover.
They continue their make-out session until they reach the shore. Bart sits up right, and blurs for a moment before his hair and clothes are perfectly back in order, and his lips don't look swollen at all anymore.
Tim catches a glance of himself in the river as he leaves the boat, and he looks like he's been kissed within an inch of his life. He's just glad Dick isn't here.
They eat another meal, at a small building by the river. Bart's probably starving, what with his metabolism, and thankfully they always give him ridiculously large servings. Which Bart eats, of course. It would probably be some sort of slight if he didn't. Tim's just glad they serve him regular portions, because he doesn't want to gain weight. He's not doing nearly enough training or practicing as it is.
It is starting to get light again when they finally get back to the temple, and Bart and Tim collapse into bed once they're alone. Tim wakes up because the arms wrapped around him are moving, and finds that Bart is disentangling himself from Tim to climb out of the bed. Tim sits up, and finds they aren't alone. Bart nods to him, pushing him down to the bed again and Tim gives him a wry smile. Tim knows how hard it must be for Bart to remain serious for such long periods of time, and it must be losing it's charm. He suspects Bart has been having some super-speed jaunts while no one is looking just to survive it.
He gets up once Bart has left. Today, Tim has white clothes that are a bit too translucent for his liking to change into, but Tim dons them none the less. He wonders what happened to his jeans and t-shirt. Thankfully, he is than given a black robe to put over them. He is led to a chamber, where Bart is seated already, in an even more ornate outfit than usual. They've given him some sort of headpiece and Tim would laugh, but it really just adds to the powerful divinity look.
Tim has a seat on the dais with Bart, though on a floor cushion rather than a throne like Bart has. It seems like it is question and answer period. Most answers seem to be short, but eventually someone asks a question, gesturing towards Tim. Bart nods sagely, before launching into story telling voice again.
Tim concentrates on Bart's body language and gestures, and manages to figure out what was asked. Apparently, Bart has launched into some sort of story of how Tim gained his favour after journeying into the other realms to do great battle. He can tell about the great battle part because no matter what language Bart talks in, no one can misunderstand his 'and then there was a big explosion' gesture.
Tim sighs. He would rather they didn't have any more reason to pay attention to him.
There are more questions, and finally someone presents Bart with a bunch of wooden pieces. Tim sits up a little straighter. It's a puzzle. It must be some sort of logic puzzle, supposedly only solvable by a God or one favoured by a God. This could mean trouble.
However, Bart throws the pieces up in the air. There is a blur of motion, and a few seconds later, Bart is standing in the exact same position, holding the wooden pieces, assembled into a figure that looks scarily like Bart. Tim is impressed. He wouldn't have guessed the pieces to assemble to look like that. Of course, there's no telling how much time Bart actually spent putting it together. Everyone in the room bows, and Tim follows suit, though he only bows his head.
Bart frowns at him, and nods at the room. The people begin to file out of the room, and eventually it's just a few people.
"Tim, please don't bow to me," Bart says quietly, eyes bright with... something.
"Okay," Tim says. Bart kisses him, then leads his group from the room. Tim is left with Y'ur'ash again. Tim smiles at the man, who gestures for him to follow. He leads Tim through the temple to the lower levels. He eventually leads Tim into a small room.
There are two chairs, and Y'ur'ash gestures for him to take a seat. When he does, he sits down across from him.
"Is this how you form your words?" he asks. Tim blinks.
"Yes," he says hesitantly, startled at this. Y'ur'ash smiles.
"Good. I have... powers... with language. Wanted to ask questions. That okay?"
"Of course."
"Good. The My'br'ta'mol'we'mue. You call him something else. Why?"
"He asked me to." Y'ur'ash gives him a knowing smile.
"Today he asked you not to bow. Between you is great love, no?" Tim nods, because there's really no other way to answer. " I thought so. Is it too improper to ask... why he not yet married you?" Tim sighs.
"It's... fine. It's just..." Tim thinks fast, and settles for "complicated. The other gods... do not approve." Y'ur'ash looks confused a moment, and Tim hopes that he didn't misunderstand Bart when he said there were other gods in this culture.
"Of course. These are the years of Th'uy'idh'oh. He does not want to upset the balance." Tim nods like he has some idea of what Y'ur'ash is talking about. "It was much talked of, when he announced you as his lover, and more talked of when it was noted you did not perform any acts of love. Many of our youth wanted to gain favour, thinking he had come in search of another. The older were wise enough to wait and see. For My'br'ta'mol'we'mue to announce a lover is news. There is old legend of him, saying he quest for a soul mate and would only find at greatest need for one. The things with the gods, they are not so good. We can all tell, it shows in the watch-stones. They have all gone black. You have been to their realm. You could tell perhaps." Y'ur'ash produces a black globe and hands it to him. It goes clear, and Tim can see Wally as the Flash fighting whoever was possessing Max's body.
He nearly swears. Y'ur'ash inhales sharply. Apparently, these people worship the Flashes. This is getting even more bizarre. "It doesn't usually show much, just bits. It knows you."
"I know what this is," Tim sighs. He hands the globe back, and it returns to black. "One of the Gods was cast out of his body and trapped in the Speed Force, and an evil spirit has his body now. Another is also in the speed Force, perhaps permanently."
"The gods are at war with the Undergods," whispers Y'ur'ash. "It is as we feared. Your scars, some look like nothing I have seen. You have been fighting with them?" Tim nods. "Is there any sign of end?" Tim sighs.
"Not currently. Perhaps, a few years."
"My'br'ta'mol'we'mue has come here for some purpose in that?" he asks.
"I don't know," Tim replies honestly. Y'ur'ash looks apologetic.
"I should not have asked. Gods have business no mortals may know, of course. It must be difficult for you. The My'br'ta'mol'we'mue may not marry you until the war over and it is safer to anger others. You are not in a position of same... respect. It upsets him as well. Could tell, when he asked you not to bow, and when he asked me to look out for you."
"He is... I know him." Y'ur'ash nods, then frowns.
"So sorry, we must arrive at banquet soon. Come, it is my honour to be your guide."
"Thank you," Tim says. Y'ur'ash smiles.
"No thanks are required." They go to the banquet hall, the same as from the first night. Tim notes that Y'ur'ash is also seated at the Head Table. Tim guesses him to be some sort of teacher. He looks at the people at the lower tables carefully. The main attraction is Bart of course, but he recognizes the looks he's getting, it's the same ones that Bruce's dates get. Tim doesn't like it, the curiosity, the collective decision that he's not good enough, that he's... Tim just doesn't like it. He keeps as silent as every other night, and there are, for once, not after dinner activities before they retire for the evening.
Tim waits until they're in bed to recount the afternoon's surprises, in a low voice. Bart looks startled by it all.
"So you mean... when I was reading about all those traditions... they somehow have a connection to the Flashes? These globe things, they showed you Wally?"
"Yes." Bart looks pensive for a moment.
"Then maybe there is some way on this planet that we can help get Max back. I'll have to start investigating tomorrow."
"How are you planning on doing that?" Bart frowns a moment, then smiles.
"Easy: they offered that I tour all the temples in the main citadel and see if they met my approval at some point, I'll just ask to do that. I can do a couple Super-speed recon trips while I'm at it. Come on, get some sleep, I'll go arrange things."
~
End part the first
Onto part two!