Robbin

15. Man of Stone

Robbin sat like a stone against the hard stone door behind him. He wouldn't let anyone inside.

The sound of her breathing, which to a human would be inaudible, could be heard through the doorway. It had long ago become deep and rhythmic with sleep.

How could he have forgotten her name? he was thinking. Terra.

To him the name was beautiful, foreign: not a name he should have forgotten, certainly, even considering the circumstances in which they met.

Embarrassment was like a fungi for him, feeding off of his insecurities and growing at an alarming rate. He was embarrassed at their second meeting: how he had run to her, she stumbling from Hunt's back. He had not known how to address her, had instead questioned Hunt. And when he finally had addressed her, had he even reintroduced himself, given her his name? Clearly she had remembered it without him saying: how had he not remembered hers?

Robbin was embarrassed that she had arrived for her third time, as far as he knew, at the hands of Hunt, who so openly displayed a show of dislike for her since hearing of her... that assuming her second visit to Carynthia had been when he was unconscious, she had arrived under the critical eyes of Hunt, Creep and Song, so he had heard.

When finally waking for the first time out of his feverish coma a few days later, he had been abash to hear that a few days earlier she had arrived in his very room to see him unconscious—to meet Hunt and Song without him knowing. He had been curious to hear that her mysterious silver necklace had appeared desolate in the clearing she had left; that Creep had found it and it had taken him to her, and her back to him. He was aghast to hear first hand from Creep that he had treated her, the subject of so much mystery, with such disrespect. He was embarrassed they had met her when he was unconscious, and embarrassed that he had been unconscious at all.

He was embarrassed that, assuming the night in the clearing was Terra's first night coming to Carynthia, it had been so full of fear and injury, and embarrassed that she didn't know if she could trust him at all now.

He realized that he should not have been embarrassed by these things, that they were not his fault, and that his best next option was to move past those events and create a less embarrassing future. He found solace in this amendment and embraced it wholeheartedly.

He found solace in believing that everything was going to be okay; that many of his companions' resentments toward his decision to protect Terra, that night and now, would pass; that the tests of his leadership and his friendship with Hunt would stop; that he wouldn't be resented for his much needed leadership at all; that Hunt would come to accept Terra, and that Terra would be safe, no matter what obvious hopes and powers her necklace could provide.

Safety. He didn't know why the word put his thoughts at such ease. He heard the word echo in his head as if in a dream. His limbs relaxed. He realized his eyes were seeing colors before he realized his eyes were closed, and not used to involuntary dreams, he found himself doing the very thing he would never do voluntarily while on watch of Terra's residence: sleeping.

"Is that girl giving you an excuse to finally get some sleep around here?"

Robbin woke abruptly to Hunt's gruff amusement. At first, he felt panic at the realization that he had fallen asleep on watch, but then, hearing her still asleep breathing through the door, he calmed.

"I sleep..." he defended groggily. He was lying on his side against hard cold ground and moved to stand up.

A scoff sounded in response. Robbin studied Hunt at his weak rebuttal. "What's that you have there?"

Hunt waved the thin paper, embarrassed. "Just something for Terra. I thought she might like it."

Robbin couldn't explain his immediate reaction. It was a mixture of anger and reverence. It was so unlike Hunt to give anyone anything, let alone the very young woman Hunt had seemed to hate so vehemently before her latest arrival.

He quickly squelched his nameless anger with relief, telling himself it was good Hunt had turned his original reluctance toward Terra into acceptance, even fondness.

Seeming uncomfortable at Robbin's silence, Hunt went on with a more masculine subject. It started with this: "we have a problem."

Robbin was immediately drawn from any previous trail of thought to the matter at hand. "What is it?"

"I've been found out."

"By who?"

"By... my people."

Robbin took a minute to let it sink in, perplexed. "By dormensions?"

Hunt continued, "when Terra came, I had a—confrontation with a coven I get information from. They questioned me, Robbin—they actually questioned me, said they knew I came into nomad territory every so often, called me a pet of yours."

"They mentioned me directly?"

Hunt nodded.

"That's no good. You have to try harder to keep word of mouth tight: come here less, go there more often. Make sure no one sees you when you switch."

Hunt seemed bored at this advice. "Yes, yes, I know. But an even bigger problem: are you sure I should go back so soon? Shouldn't I stay here a little longer?"

"Why?"

Hunt gave him a gruff look. "Do you realize how much people hate her right now? How in danger she is?" He pointed to the closed door which enclosed the sleeping Terra. "Don't you need help, you know... keeping things calm?"

Robbin's jaw slacked. He guessed that was a good point, but Hunt's safety was being dangerously threatened. Sooner or later he would find himself not being able to go back to dormension territory at all.

A man was approaching from the end of the hallway. The briskness of his step and labor of his breathing were enough to earn both Hunt's and Robbin's sudden attention.

The man didn't even glance at Hunt as he rushed toward Robbin, not even to give him a dirty look for being the only dormension in their nomad cave.

That was odd.

a/n: and here is poor Robbin's side of things. It kinda sucks to be the hero sometimes...

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Chay