Concept/Prologue for Alfred fic

[icarus_chained]

I really should stop posting openings of stuff that I don't plan on picking up for ages. But at least if I post them, I can go back to them, instead of letting them moulder on my harddrive. So, forgive me. Only a teaser, with the main event a long way off.

Advice welcomed, by the by. Especially as regards the history.


Title:  The Life and Times of Alfred Pennyworth: Spy, Servant and Privateer
Rating:  PG-13
Characters/Pairings:  Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, mentions of the elder Waynes.
Continuity:  Privateer AU
Summary:  Exerpt from the diary of Alfred Thadeus Crane Pennyworth, April, 1841
Wordcount:  901
Notes/Warnings:  To all Americans, forgive the terrible mangling I'm undoubtedly about to inflict on your history.

 

The Life and Times of Alfred Pennyworth

Spy, Servant and Privateer

10 April, 1841

You will forgive the sensationalistic sound of that title, please. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a man prone to sensationalism. Nevertheless, in this small way, I should like to indulge myself, if I may. A man must have some liberty in his life, a lesson I have learned at some cost over the years.

My name is Alfred Thadeus Crane Pennyworth. I was born in England in 1768, though that is of little relevance to the tale I intend to tell you now. My early life is of little interest to anyone save myself, and those who shared it with me. However, it is important that I was, and still believe myself to be, British. I am, even now, a servant of the Empire, in my own way, though I am no longer counted among her citizens. Indeed, I have been counted among her enemies, and grant that those who say it have cause. But I yet harbour a love for my mother country, fond as I am of her estranged child who now holds my direct allegiance.

It was in service of the Empire that I first came to that child's shores, to the United States of America, in the year 1807. Circumstances between England and her erstwhile colonies had become somewhat strained, as the war with France had put pressure on her to obtain men and resources. A certain incident between a naval vessel and an American frigate* had aroused tempers, and though much of our focus was on France, England is never blind to her other enemies. America needed watching.

It was under these circumstances that I was dispatched to the States. No military or naval man could be spared, but I was neither, though I was capable as both. But my purpose was of a different kind.

I came to America as a spy.

Perhaps you understand now my reticence regarding sensationalism. My life, though undoubtedly of a kind that many would gladly sensationalise, has been one where any attention cast upon me has been fraught with danger. Though I would hesitate to call myself an expert, I will own that over the course of it, I have learned something about secrecy, dissemblance and the art of seeming. I have been, in my time, a rather excellent spy, insomuch as no-one, outside of a very few persons, has ever known of the truth of my time in America. To most, it was a story repeated many times in those years. I was a deserter, fled to America to escape the impressment and war in Europe. To this day, what remains of my family disowns my memory for that betrayal.

And yet, I cannot regret it. It is true enough now, in a way. For America was not what I expected, nor her people the villains I had envisioned.

There were many Englishmen in America then. Many spies, too, in many areas. But my brief, my mission, was to infiltrate and examine the rich families of the coast, the privateering families of Gotham. To wit, the Wayne family. And so began my second, and for many years primary, career. I became the family butler to the Waynes. After all, there is no better butler than an Englishman. Certainly the Waynes thought so.

The man I served to begin with was a man named Thomas Wayne, a surgeon of some renown, and more importantly the owner of several prosperous industries, including multiple shipyards. He and his wife, Martha, were considered to be the height of aristocracy in Gotham, the very pinnacle of society. Rumours circulated, as rumours do, painting them as everything from charitable saints to the greediest of the greedy. They were, after all, exceedingly rich. Such was to be expected.

What I found, in the regrettably brief time I knew them, was a couple firm in belief, proud in nature, charitable and decent in demeanour, and honest as the day is long. They were both of them dedicated to their city, to their country, and to the future of both. And while that boded ill for my mission, for the needs of my own country, I could not help but respect them for it. A man is entitled to respect his enemies. Even if he must draw their bath every evening.

The first few months of my life in America were, therefore, calm and even rather complacent. The Waynes, though undoubtedly enemies, were hardly sinister, and I was not close enough to them as yet to have learned much about the shipyards, and the beginnings of the Wayne fleet. For Thomas was indeed a privateer, or at least a sponsor of privateers, and his ships cost us dearly. I did what I could, passed what information I gleaned in those months, but I was hardly pressured.

On June 26th, 1808, all that was irrevocably changed, as Thomas and Martha were killed, murdered in the streets of Gotham by a common criminal. On that day, my life, my allegiance and my future were to be changed forever. On that day, I met the man who would one day be my master, my employer, my friend and my child, in all ways save blood. That day, I looked into the eyes of a stricken child, and saw him, the man he would become.

That day, I met Bruce Wayne.

 

* The Chesapeake-Leopard Affair - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chesapeake-Leopard_Affair.