Every Marshal still standing at the arena's edge stared in open, unconcealed awe.
From the platform above, Didi let out a long, low breath, her eyes bright with admiration.
"Well," she said. "Seems that's it." She glanced sideways at Arthur. "Time for the final matches, I take it. Unless you're hiding another Marshal somewhere who's willing to fight."
Arthur's gaze remained on the wreckage below, thoughtful. "No," he said. "This is all of them." A faint pause. "Zeus showed no interest in this position. He oversees Nyx and the Shadow Lanterns, I've given him different duties, ones that suit him better."
Below, Bellion descended slowly to the arena floor, folding his wings, and turned without a word toward the edge of the battlefield, leaving the scattered ruin of his opponent behind him. As he passed the other Marshals, most inclined their heads in silent acknowledgment even Beru, still nursing his own bruised pride, managed something that might, on a more generous day, have been called respect.
Arthur raised his hand, and the restriction he'd placed on Ultra's regeneration lifted at once, Ultra sat up amid the wreckage, whole once more, save for the faint, lingering ache written across his expression and the new, grudging respect in his eyes as he watched Bellion walk away.
Arthur rose fully, his voice carrying out over the arena, over the assembled Marshals, over the sea of watching shadows that stretched to the very edges of the world of eternal slumber.
"You have all fought with honor today," he said. "Those who won, and those who lost as well. There is no shame in any of what I witnessed here, only strength, and the will to test it against your own. Know this: the title of Grand Marshal will not be closed to you simply because you did not claim it today. In time, any of you may challenge the one who wins it, and earn the right to take his place."
A ripple of acknowledgment passed through the gathered Marshals, nods and a few sharp, competitive glances that promised this was far from over.
Arthur's gaze swept across the four who remained.
"H'El. Doom. Galatea. And finally, Bellion." His eyes moved between them, "You four will fight the final matches to determine who will stand as Grand Marshal of my army. I have already decided the pairings."
He looked to H'El first, then let his gaze settle on the winged figure beside him.
"H'El.. you will face Bellion."
Then, turning toward the remaining two, he inclined his head toward the massive, silent bulk of Doom, and the composed figure of Galatea beside him.
"And Doom.. you will face Galatea. Yours will be the first match." An anticipatory smile touched his mouth as he raised his hand once more toward the great shadow bell. "Good luck to you both. We will begin now. Galatea, Doom, take your positions."
.
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ARTHUR'S ESTATE – GOTHAM
Arthur sat cross-legged at the center of the study of his estate, upon a low cushion set before the tall windows overlooking the Gotham outskirts, his hands resting loosely on his knees, his expression as still and untroubled as carved stone. He had not moved. Not a single muscle, not so much as the flutter of an eyelid, since the previous morning's light had first crossed the floorboards. Now that same light was fading again into evening, painting long amber streaks across the room, and still he had not stirred.
George stood a respectful distance away, hands folded behind his back, though even he, after so many time in this household, found something faintly remarkable about the sheer, unbroken duration of it.
Kara drifted into the doorway, arms crossed loosely, her head tilting as she studied the motionless figure across the room.
"Is he still meditating?" she asked, pitching her voice low, though there seemed little danger of disturbing him at this point.
"I believe so, Lady Kara," George said, inclining his head slightly. "He has not so much as adjusted his posture since yesterday morning. Quite the impressive display of discipline, if I may say so."
From the window seat, curled comfortably with an old, leather-bound occult text open across her knees, Raven did not look up from the page she was studying, her fingers idly tracing a small, glimmering sigil into existence above her palm before letting it dissolve again.
"He's in the World of Eternal Slumber," she said simply.
George's brows lifted. "Ah. That place." He nodded slowly. "That would certainly explain it."
Kara glanced between the two of them, a small line forming between her brows. "Is something wrong there with his shadows? That he's spending this much time?"
Raven finally looked up, considering the question with the patience of someone who had long since stopped worrying every time Arthur vanished into some corner of himself that the rest of them couldn't follow. "He didn't mention anything to me before he went there," she said. "Whatever it is, it isn't urgent. He is Just... involved. and considering the time flows differently in there, I'd say he is been inside for a week."
'A week?!' Kara chewed the inside of her cheek, unconvinced, and drifted closer to where Arthur sat, studying his utterly motionless face. After a moment, she reached out and gave the tip of his nose a light, testing nudge with one finger.
Nothing. No twitch, no breath catching, no flicker of awareness in the closed, serene lines of his expression.
She frowned properly now, hands settling on her hips. "Isn't this dangerous? He's completely defenseless like this."
Across the room, Raven laughed, rare enough that George's eyes flicked toward her with mild surprise of his own.
"Silly Kara," Raven said, marking her page and setting the book aside entirely now, clearly more interested in what was about to happen than in her reading. "He knows exactly what you're doing. You do know that, right? He can still hear you. Still feel you, even now."
Kara went very still. "...He's listening?"
"Every word," Raven confirmed, the corner of her mouth curving with unmistakable amusement.
George, who had maintained admirable composure through nearly everything this household had thrown at him over the time, allowed himself a low, dignified chuckle at the sight of Kara's expression shifting rapidly from confusion to open, blazing embarrassment.
"He is?!" Her face had gone a shade of red that had nothing to do with sunlight, her earlier scrutiny of Arthur's stillness taking on an entirely different, mortifying context in her mind.
"Mm-hm," Raven said, clearly enjoying this far too much to let it go so easily. "Every little poke. Every comment you made. All of it." She tilted her head, feigning innocent curiosity. "What exactly were you doing before you started worrying about him being defenseless, Kara?"
"I.." Kara's mouth opened and closed once, caught entirely flat-footed. "I didn't know he could still tell what's going on around him! If I had known, I wouldn't have.." She cut herself off, pressing a hand briefly to her own burning face.
"Of course you wouldn't have," Raven said, in a tone that made abundantly clear she believed no such thing.
Kara huffed, glancing once more at Arthur's serene, unmoving face and something in her expression shifted, embarrassment was gone.
"Fine," she said. "Since he can apparently still feel things."
She lowered herself down beside him without further warning, framed his face gently between both hands, and kissed him properly, thoroughly, with none of the hesitance of a moment ago, as though daring whatever part of him remained aware in that room to actually react to it.
It was, by any measure, a rather passionate apology.
Raven's carefully composed amusement faltered for just a moment, her eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise at the sheer commitment behind the gesture, and even George found a sudden, urgent interest in a particular stretch of the bookshelf across the room.
Kara pulled back just slightly, her forehead resting against his, her voice softer now.
"There," she murmured. "As an apology. For interrupting whatever it is you're doing in there."
Inside the World of Eternal Slumber, on the platform overlooking the arena floor, where Doom and Galatea were only just beginning to circle one another beneath a sky the color of old bruises, Arthur smiled.
It was a small thing, barely more than a faint curve at the corner of his mouth, but Didi caught it instantly, her body tilting toward him with obvious, delighted curiosity.
"They're bothering you back there aren't they?" she asked.
Arthur's smile deepened, just slightly, his eyes never leaving the battle beginning to unfold below. "A bit," he admitted.
/-\
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