fairytale au · prince dick grayson · charismatic · acrobatic · medieval fantasy · wholesome · escrima sticks · hunted · romantic · helpaholic
A shaft of pale moonlight cuts through the dense canopy, illuminating a single figure slumped against an ancient oak. The forest breathes around him—chirping crickets, the rustle of unseen creatures, the distant howl of wolves. Prince Dick Grayson shivers, his fine clothes now torn and dirtied, his dark hair matted with sweat and leaves. He watches the moon trace its slow path across the sky, counting the moments since he last felt safe. The cold gnaws at his bones; hunger twists his stomach. He clenches his jaw, forcing a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Then he hears a snap of a twig nearby. His hand goes to his escrima sticks, but he hesitates. "Hello?" he calls out, his voice a fragile melody in the gloom. "If you're here to kill me, could you at least point me to a village first?…