robinet burke. (robinet) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-04-08 19:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | robinet burke, rolf scamander |
WHO: Rolf Scamander and Robinet Burke
WHAT: Rolf and Robin have some differences they need to air
WHERE: Robin's flat, Knockturn
WHEN: The other night
Rolf waited ten minutes after his last hext before apparating into Robin’s living room. There was no suppressing the anger and pain built up inside his chest, like a pressure seeking release. But, for all his anger, he’d felt a pang of heartache at Robin’s words: I’m disappointed in you too. As his gaze fell over Robin, slumped back into his sofa, a small part of Rolf wanted to believe there was some way to resolve this. This, he knew, was naive. Hope was not one of the many emotions currently clouding his mind. “Hello, Robinet.” Grief roughened his voice, but he still managed a small smile. Robin had project notes strewn about the living room, mostly in neat piles. He’d tried to force himself to pay attention to them as he waited, pushing back on something that felt like nerves. He tapped his pen against the edge of the stack of paper in his lap and smiled slightly up at Rolf. “Hey,” he said, slowly. Then, he picked up one of the files from the sofa and said, “You can sit down if you want. Unless you wanna tower over me or something.” “No, no, I can sit,” Rolf replied. He took a deep breath to calm his thrumming nerves, then sunk down onto the sofa beside Robin. His gaze traced Robin’s profile before flicking away. “I wanted to come over because I don’t want you to think I hate you.” His voice was quiet but genuine. “I don’t — it would take a lot for that to happen. But…” He ran his hands across the top of his thighs, trying to figure out some way to articulate his thoughts. “I don’t know. I don’t really know what to do.” “But you want to?” Robin supplied, (almost) proud of the way his voice (almost) glided over the words, not quite shrinking away from it. He had spent months with the murmur in his head telling him Rolf was going to hate him for this; the cruel, small part of him was clamouring for vindication. “There’s a Stones song, you know. Can’t always get what you want.” “No,” Rolf insisted, shaking his head. Angling himself toward Robin, he hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to give Robin the full weight of his gaze, so that he’d be able to read the seriousness in his eyes. “I mean, I know it’s a song. No, I don’t want to hate you. I don’t know why you’d think that. I know I’ve been a bit harsh, but.” Sudden embarrassment crashed against him as he looked at Rolf, his familiar face, his expressions always a shade more earnest than everyone else’s. Even now. Robin glanced down at Rolf’s hand and smiled, a thin-lipped expression, more an acknowledgement than anything else. He shrugged, even though he knew it would disrupt the touch and he didn’t overly want that. He wanted something that would tell him that Rolf wasn’t done with him. And yet, Robin said, a slight pink creeping up his neck, “It’s fine. I mean, it doesn’t matter. That’s a bit me-me-me. How are you?” He’d been forcing himself to talk properly when they’d been texting. Robin found the idea much harder, suddenly. Rolf felt his mouth twitch with a dark stir of sarcastic amusement. “Well,” he began, slowly drawing out the vowel, “I’m not great.” He let out a short, sharp breath. “I don’t know if you knew this, but Dedalus had a daughter. She’s about seven. I have to get in touch with her about what happened.” And I found out Richenza was a Death Eater, he almost added. Rolf was no longer able to meet Robin’s gaze. “Oh,” Robin said, a little dully. A seven year old. He took a deep breath, let air hiss out between his teeth and he reached out. For a moment, he went for Rolf’s hand but, at the last minute, changed course and squeezed his shoulder instead. “Merlin, Rolf, I’m sorry. Are you gonna keep her away?” “I don’t think I have any control over that, but, even if I did, she’s much better off away from here.” A moment later, the tight set of Rolf’s jaw softened and a faraway look crept into his eyes. “I kind of thought I might want to leave. Pack up, go abroad, work on becoming the best magizoologist in the world. I know I could do a lot of good out there.” When Rolf looked up, his eyes were burning with a righteous anger. “But leaving is the last thing I want to do. I want to do whatever it takes to wrest control away from these terrible people.” A couple of weeks ago, Robin might have tried to convince Rolf that it would be best to go abroad anyway. As it was, he didn’t. He couldn’t find the words and he could tell Rolf didn’t want to hear them. Robin pushed his spine against the back of the sofa instead, hand running through his hair as he said, “Maybe you can go after. Course you’re gonna do a lot of good no matter where you go. You know that.” “You could do a lot of good too,” Rolf shot back, gentle but certain. “You could help me. You don’t have to keep letting this happen.” There was a moment of silence before Robinet said, “I think you’re better with the animals than me, Rolfander. That’s your forte, really. I won’t tread on your toes.” Rolf gave a wry laugh. “You know what I’m talking about, Robinet.” “Rolf.” Robin breathed out his name, tipping his head back against the sofa for a moment. There was a twisting, churning feeling in his stomach he wasn’t sure of. He reached out and this time he grabbed for Rolf’s hand. “I’m not an Order person, you know. I’m not you.” “You don’t need to be an Order person,” Rolf insisted. He hadn’t come over with the intention of trying to sway Robinet to the cause, but he couldn’t shake the idea now. It was a way to resolve all this. “You just don’t need to be, you know, a person who helps the Death Eaters. You can tell me things you hear and I can pass it on.” There was an abrupt pause as his eyes lit up in excitement. “Oh, or you could put a tracking spell on the things you sell them.” Robin looked at Rolf and decided he hated this. He hated the excitement in his eyes, just as Robin was getting prepared to ruin it. He shook his head. “I can’t put a tracking spell on anything,” he said, frowning slightly. “I mean, for one it could disrupt the spells on the items already but mostly — if they find out, I’d be screwed. They’d come for me. Who knows what they’d do to my family or the shop or Lucrezia or anyone.” His nose wrinkling, Robin couldn’t help but remember Rabastan’s words and he sounded bitter as he said, “I’m not untouchable.” “Oh,” Rolf said, looking crestfallen. Robinet’s reasons were sound, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment. He glowered down at the floor as he continued, in a much cooler tone, “You don’t have to come up with these grand excuses. You can just say you don’t want to. It’s a lot of gold to give up and we all know how you feel about gold.” Robin drew his hands back, folding his arms over his chest, a flimsy physical barrier against a verbal attack. He frowned and hoped that he hadn’t flinched as his own voice said, smooth as ice, “Yeah, I’m like a dragon guarding it and I don’t want to give up that part time job. You got me.” He glared at the side of Rolf’s face. “Wanna get another dig in?” Rolf’s gaze snapped to Robin, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know, do you want to keep helping murderers?” “Sure,” Robin snapped, eyes brightening. His jaw set; he should have expected more of a fight. He was so stupid. “I’d love to. Why don’t I just go out and start murdering people myself, seeing as I love it so much, right? You know me so well.” “I know you would never murder anyone,” Rolf replied hotly. “Murder would involve some kind of commitment to cause and you love your—” He paused here to make air quotes with his fingers. “—neutrality.” “Well, not wanting to be brutally murdered or have my family line’ literal legacy burnt to the ground is a pretty neutral position to take,” Robin shot back. “I mean, as far as positions go not wanting to die is pretty neutral. Freaking sue me.” He pulled back slightly, trying desperately not to throw himself off the sofa and start pacing even though the argument had lit a restless fire in him and he felt useless and ineffectual sitting in one position. He ran a hand through his hair again instead, looking into one corner of the room so he wasn’t looking directly at Rolf. “I cannot believe you want me to feel bad for what, existing?” “No, I just want you to—” To what, exactly? Rolf could feel his anger rapidly deflating as he struggled to find the right words. He sunk back into the sofa and dragged his hands across his face. “Maybe I’m not being entirely fair,” he finally admitted, “but I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want you to not help Death Eaters. I don’t want you to defend them. I don’t want you to lie to me about them, but I guess it’s too late for that.” There was no heat to his voice as he spoke — if anything, he sounded resigned. But it was Richenza, Robin thought, but he didn’t say it, teeth clamping down slightly on his tongue so he didn’t spit it out. He looked hard at Rolf, trying to gauge his mood, guess at his reactions. Robin hadn’t wanted to fight, but the conversation felt like a minefield. He had never been particularly good at not hunting out explosions. He took a deep breath and then another, looking down at his hands for a moment and then back up at Rolf. “I don’t think you’re being that fair,” he said, “and I’ve a school tie to prove I know all about that somewhere. But — I mean — look, I can’t change anything. But I’m not lying to you either. It was just — that.” Rolf opened his mouth to say something, then promptly changed his mind. “Okay,” was clearly not all he wanted to say, but he only followed it up by folding his arms across his chest. Looking at Rolf, Robin waited for a long moment to see what he was going to say, looking almost patient. Nothing else came. “Okay?” he prompted, sliding won slightly. “Okay and what else? You’re disappointed? You’re tired? You want to grind my bones to make your bread?” “I don’t know,” Rolf said slowly, turning toward Robin, leaning his head against the sofa’s back cushion. There was a troubled look in his eyes as he continued, “I’d just be repeating myself, I think. I’m disappointed and unsure of what to do now.’ Robin let silence sit for a moment, words thick in his throat. He wanted so much; he couldn’t say any of it. Instead, his voice went lighter, the joke tripping out of him as he said, “You could grind my bones for real if you wanted. Give you something to do.” Rolf was startled into laughing. “Are you coming on to me?” The sound of Rolf’s laughter made Robin smile instantly and he nodded. “Course I am, yeah. It was subtle, though.” A slow smile lifted the corner of Rolf’s mouth as he reached out to lightly punch Robin’s arm. “Sure, Robinet. As subtle as a sledgehammer.” It was only small, but there was a loosening in Robin’s chest as he watched Rolf’s reaction. He was even glad of the punch and his smile was small, but glowingly genuine as he looked at him and then briefly away. “I don’t really think subtle suits me. I like to make myself known. It’s my charm.” “You are quite charming,” Rolf admitted, still grinning. But his smile faded a few degrees as he added, “When you aren’t lying to me, I guess.” “I guess that could put a damper on it,” Robin said, voice low. His gaze was intent on Rolf, sweeping across his face, cataloguing it slowly. He thought about reaching out to touch him, but changed his mind at the last minute as he shifted in his seat instead, knees pointing towards Rolf. “You know that I can’t change that,” he said, keeping his voice measured as possible. He wanted Rolf to know he’d thought about it. (He didn’t want to say that he wasn’t sure he would change it anyway.) “You probably know I can’t say I’m not gonna lie to you again because I mean, people do. I do. Usually about stupid stuff. But I’m not gonna do anything like that again. I don’t know if that — I dunno, Rolf.” He didn’t want to ask if that was enough, because he had a feeling that it wasn’t. Robin didn’t overly want to hear that. He stuck a finger in his mouth and bit down on his nail, still watching Rolf, anxiety pressing at his skin and making it feel tight. Rolf flushed, slightly, under Robin’s gaze, which held the same weight as a physical touch. He knew what he wanted to do, but that was very different from what he ought to do. The look in Rolf’s eyes was a conflicted one, and he sighed as he carded his fingers through his hair. “I don’t really know if I’m going to get over it, Robinet.” There was a slow, sad shake of his head. “But maybe I just need time, I don’t know. Maybe I just need to focus on Order things for now.” Robin bowed his head, hair falling forward slightly. He nodded slightly, a jerk of the head. “I’m not going to ask you not to focus on that, Rolf.” “I know, but…” Rolf let out another sigh. “It’s just a lot at once. Becca, Dedalus, Richenza, you.” “I know,” Robin echoed. Timing was everything. He supposed he had spectacularly bad timing. “I’m sorry.” Pulling a hand through his hair, he tasted the words on his tongue before he said them: bitter and metallic. “So, are you breaking up with me then? I mean, that’s —” he broke off, laughing hollowly, and shaking his head, “it’s not fine. I guess.” Surprise flickered across Rolf’s face. “Breaking up?” he repeated, straightening up against the sofa. “I didn’t think we were — I mean, we hadn’t talked about anything. But…” He rose to his feet without warning, suddenly desperate to put more distance between the two of them. “I don’t know?” Robin looked up at Rolf, frowning deeply and trying to stop his face from betraying anything else. He hated that he didn’t feel particularly in control. He hated that everything was spinning away from him and that Rolf clearly wanted to too. There was no other reason he could see for lurching away. Taking a breath, Robin shrugged. “It’s fine. We didn’t talk about it. So it probably wasn’t really.” Robin itched for something else to do. He looked away from Rolf, towards his books, and then his bedroom. He willed Debbie to come out from wherever she was hiding, right at that moment. She didn’t. “I’ll do it,” he said, glancing back at Rolf. “That’s what you want, so. It’s not you, it’s me, but for real.” He pulled a face and Robinet felt his face twisting into something he didn’t like. He clicked his tongue. Where was Debbie? Rolf watched as a storm of emotions clouded over Robin’s face. Frowning, he walked up to Robinet, his heart pounding in his chest as he carefully considered his next words. “I don’t think—” He paused and reached down, tilting Robin’s chin up. “Is that what you want to do? Because I never said I wanted that.” Robin followed the movement easily, looking up at Rolf for a long moment. He caught Rolf’s eye and held it, swallowing after a moment. His mouth parted and he sighed. “No,” he said, still holding Rolf’s gaze. “That’s not what I want at all. But I don’t want to not do it and then you’re gonna regret it.” Robin licked his lips and then, in a softer voice, said, “I’d hate that a lot.” “I really do think time is the best solution to this,” Rolf said, withdrawing his hand in order nervously rub at the back of his neck. “Because I came over with the intention of — well, I’m sure you can guess. But I don’t feel that way now.” Debbie padded into the room, meowing quietly as she curved around one of Rolf’s legs. A smile bloomed across his face as he knelt down to scratch behind her ears. “That doesn’t mean I’m not still mad, though,” he said, half-distractedly. “I just don’t want to do anything I’ll regret.” Robin stared at Rolf, letting relief sweep through him, slow as molasses. He wasn’t quite sure he believed it, but he watched Rolf pet his cat and smiled. It was soothing, normal. Debbie meowed and stretched her back. Robin shook his head. “You’re shameless,” he told Debbie. She looked at him and then away, pressing into Rolf’s hand, being even more shameless. “You like him way too much.” He didn’t think that it was too much, but he didn’t say that. Instead he sat back slightly, watching Rolf still. “You can be mad at me. I can give you time. That’s fair and, you know, I’m a very fair person.” “You are a Hufflepuff,” Rolf agreed, smiling over at Robin. He let his attention drift back to Debbie, running his hand down the length of her back. “I should probably go,” he said quietly. “And you should think about what I said about helping. I know there’s only so much you can do without putting yourself in danger, but any little thing would help.” “Okay,” Robin said, nodding, as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll think about it. I promise.” He took a few steps towards Rolf, hesitant for a moment, before he laid his hand on his chest and brushed his lips against Rolf’s forehead. “Will you tell me if you need anything?” “Sure,” Rolf nodded, heat creeping up his neck. “Of course I will.” He smiled shyly as he straightened up to his full height, clearly on the verge of saying something else — of doing something else. His hand found itself on Robin’s shoulder and he leaned forward ever so slightly, but then he changed his mind. “I’ll see you around, Robinet.” And with that he was gone. |