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Mote in your brother's eye (dp x dc)

Danyal Al Ghul was born part of a set. Twins were a blessing he’d heard people say, but Mother’s face said otherwise. And Danyal had started seeing why when he turned four. When their instructors started praising one over the other, favouring, comparing one against the other.

It hadn’t stopped there. As they grew, it seemed everyone had decided one twin was superior to the other and though Danyal knew it wasn’t true, and he knew it wasn’t fair, it seemed nobody cared. Damian and him tried, they really did, but there was nothing to do about it and the Twins turned into the Heir and the Spare.

And when one night, Mother’s spymaster came to report that Ra’s was looking for the spare, Danyal knew it was over. Mother was a flurry of controlled movement, and his own mind was whirling at breakneck speeds, but Damian was calm. And that broke Danyal’s heart.

"Put this on," Mother said, handing them identical robes. Danyal and Damian were always given different sets of clothes, to make them easily distinguishable. It seemed Mother was banking on their identical features for additional protection. 

Danyal put it on, and Damian followed, albeit more slowly. 

"Grandfather is only looking for one of us,". his twin said calmly.

"Damian," Mother said warningly.

"Mother, there is no choice, we hav-"

"I will not hear of it," she interrupted Damian ferociously. "Now, follow me."

Dayal looked to his twin’s hard features and pale face and his eyes began to burn. It wasn’t fair.

They followed after their mother’s, silent footsteps in the high hallways.

"We will not make it out," Damian said quietly to himself, "not like this."

Danyal took a deep, steadying breath, painfully aware his twin was right. 

"Damian," he started and his twin turned to him to raise an imperious eyebrow. "Damian, I’m sorry."

His twin scoffed and turned away, hurrying towards their mother who was opening up a corner of the wall, which she had told them held a passageway leading to the outside of the compound.

"Quick," Mother said and gestured towards the hole in the wall. 

Damian went in first, looking like he wanted to grumble but was too well-trained to do so.

Once he had disappeared into the darkness, Mother looked over at Danyal. But he did not move.

"Danyal," she started.

"Mother," he said and stared back and he saw the understanding in her eyes. Her eyes flashed.

"I will go," she said.

"You cannot."

"Danyal-"

"There is no time to argue," he said. "Grandfather is not a patient man."

She held his gaze for a second longer, before her shoulder lowered. She reached for Danyal’s nape and brought him in close to kiss his forehead.

"Be quick, dearest," she said as she stroked his hair. "Make me proud."

"I will," Danyal promised. He gave her a fragile smile. "Tell Damian I love him.’

"I will," she swore and then she was gone.

As Danyal walked towards his Grandfather’s quarters, there were people stepping out of his way in the halls. The boy ignored the stares as he fixed his eyes into the distance, his chin up and proud. 

He arrived in front of his Grandfather’s intricately ornamented doors much sooner than he would’ve hoped and was let in immediately.

Grandfather was standing, his back to the door, standing in front of a desk.

"I had begun to believe you would not show, child" Grandfather said.

Danyal bowed his head deferential and did not answer.

"You are not a coward at the very least," the man said as he turned back, his piercing stare settling on Danyal. The latter had to stifle the urge to flinch.

Grandfather then turned back towards the table to grab a dagger off the desk and at this, Danyal stepped back, his own hand going to his knife.

The man smirked, seemingly amused. "Do you believe I will kill you?"

His hand still over his knife, Danyal shrugged carefully. "I do not know what to believe."

Grandfather let out a chuckle and then he moved and Danyal reacted, his hand going for his knife and in the same movement towards Grandfather’s neck when he was stopped dead by his grandfather’s dagger in his gut.

A pained grunt escaped him and he struggled to stay to his feet, but he was already unbalanced from the attack and he crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain as the dagger buried itself deeper.

"What a waste," Grandfather’s voice cut through the haze of pain. "You were a disappointment to the end, Damian."

"Get him out of my sight," was the last Danyal heard of it before he was lost to oblivion.