Nico Robin (all_sunday) wrote in valloic, @ 2023-06-08 18:22:00 |
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Roach - or Briar, as some people seemed to think he ought to be called - was little for his age, but not stupid. No one had sat him down and had a conversation about what was going on, but he’d picked things up from talking to other kids and eavesdropping on adults who didn’t know he was listening. He hadn’t just come here, to this weird place. It sounded like he’d been here for a while. Only different. Older. Which meant the place where he had woken up, the big clean place with all the books and plants, in the building surrounded by roses, was probably where his older self had been living.
Briar as he was now almost had to be physically nailed down to keep him inside a building he wasn’t robbing, but curiosity eventually got the better of him. It was easy to retrace his steps back to the big house. He was surprised there were no guards or anything to try and stop him as he walked through the big gardens, sticking to the big hedges just in case. What was strangest was the feeling he got as he got closer and closer to the walls… a nice, warm, safe feeling. Like something calling him.
He steered well clear of the main door - he was not after all crazy - but there was the little side door he had run out of before, and he managed to find it again. It opened when he pushed it. Not even any locks. He scoffed. Was everyone in this place stupid?
Inside it was trickier to remember which way to go. There were corridors and things and he hadn’t exactly paid much attention when he had left a week ago. After a couple of false turns he settled for just following the nice feeling that was growing stronger all the time. It led him to a room that was probably small by the house’s standards, but giant by his own, with light poring in through the windows and a tiny tree growing out of a plate on the windowsill. And there was a girl in there, looking at it.
He ought to have just left, but the nice feeling was coming from the tiny tree, and he wanted to touch it quite desperately all of a sudden. He had the strong feeling it was his, and somehow it was happy to see him. It didn’t make much sense for a boy who had never had any possessions he could remember, but the call of it was strong enough that he couldn’t bear to leave. “Don’t yell,” he said, slipping inside the room and hoping the girl wasn’t silly. Worst case, he could try and nick the tree and run off with it, but there was something magical about the house and the gardens and he wasn’t totally convinced there weren’t spells all over that might trigger if he took something more valuable than some clothes and the phone that he’d found in the pocket of the trousers.
Robin probably should have screamed when the strange young boy entered the room, but she didn’t. She had learned a long time ago to keep her mouth shut and her head down and just stay out of the way. Though….Edwin and Nikolai weren’t like her aunt and uncle. They hadn’t made her do all their chores or work around the house and they’d been very kind to her. She felt guilty and a frown pulled hard at her little mouth. The boy had told her not to yell, but he hadn’t forbidden her to speak. “Who are you?” She demanded, though she was sure to keep her voice quiet.
“I’m Briar,” said Briar, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He wasn’t even sure what the name meant, but he thought it might have something to do with the big vines with thorns on them that had left a deep pockmarked scar on one of his hands. That was tough, anyway. “Who’re you?”
Edwin had said there was someone living at Sutton Cottage named Briar and that Robin would eventually meet him later. This must have been him. It was strange, neither Edwin nor Nikolai had mentioned that Briar was a kid too. “I’m Robin,” she said carefully, still eyeing the boy in front of her carefully. “Edwin said I could stay here.” She said just in case Briar thought she was sneaking into the cottage uninvited. “Are you just getting home?”
Briar looked around. “Ye-es,” he decided eventually. “This is… my home. Yes.” Course, he wasn’t staying, but this girl didn’t need to know that. He inched over in the direction of the little tree. There were books on a shelf near the window, and he ran his little fingers briefly over the spines, tracing the embossed letters of words he couldn’t read. But maybe older him could. It was strange to think of himself sitting around reading like a Bag with nothing else to do. There were fancy clothes hanging up, too, like the ones he had torn up and adjusted to fit him by tying in strategic places. Old him must have money. Briar wondered how he got it. Not just by looking after some plants, surely? It was strange to feel jealous of himself. “You just get here, too?” he asked Robin, by way of a distraction.
Robin nodded. “I got here a couple of days ago after I ran away--” she bit hard on her lip. “I mean. I just arrived on this island.” She watched as Briar made his way around the room, looking around as though he wasn’t sure if he belonged or not. It was strange, but rather than being suspicious, it made Robin feel a little sad for the boy. “Were you lost too?” She asked.
“No,” Briar said quickly, defensive. “Well… I didn’t know where I was, but that’s different.” He rubbed one dirty bare foot against the soft, clean carpet. All the other kids in this place had places to stay, or parents, or people who were at least willing to look after them. It was weird. Someone had even asked him to come and stay with them, but Briar said no. He didn’t trust people who offered things for nothing. Only now it turned out he had had his own place, this whole time. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the little tree on the sill. “Why’s it so small?”
Robin didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say so. Being lost was scary and frightening and she didn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it. She looked at the tree he was pointing at. “Oh,” she said. “I don’t know what it is,” she said as she stepped towards him. She peered up at the tree on the window sill. “I don’t know.” She peered at it carefully, putting her face as close as she dared. “It kinda looks like a tree.” She said. “But it’s growing out of a plate!” She giggled. “Maybe it has a Devil Fruit…” She furrowed her brows. Edwin had said Devil Fruits don’t exist here. “Or…” she said carefully, “maybe magic?” She reached out a hand to touch it, but quickly yanked it back. Edwin might be angry if he caught her touching things that weren’t hers. This was supposed to be Briar’s room, right?
She looked at him, “can I touch it?”
Briar frowned. “How should I know?” he asked, and then remembered it was meant to be his room. He sidled over to the tree. “Its branches are so tiny,” he said, marveling. “Looks like they might snap off.” It was so beautiful. And there again, that nice kind of feeling he couldn’t put a name to. Like what he imagined having a warm, safe place would be. Mine. “What’s a Devil Fruit?”
Robin hesitated and looked down at her feet. “Well…” She didn’t want to make Briar hate her like all the other children from her island did. But…Edwin and Nikolai both didn’t seem to mind her powers. Maybe Briar wouldn’t either? She peered up at him carefully. “Devil Fruits are fruits that give you special abilities when you eat them,” she explained carefully. “Like this…” An arm sprouted from the window sill and waved at Briar.
Briar yelped and jumped back. He immediately felt embarrassed, but surely anyone would have been startled by that. “You’re doing that?” he gasped, looking between the hand and the girl. She still seemed to have all her arms. “You’re a mage!”
Robin let out a quick ”Eek!” when Briar yelped. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to her chin defensively. But when Briar didn’t strike her or yell at her, she opened one eye carefully and then the other/ She saw him looking between her and the arm. “I don’t know what a mage is,” she said. “This is my devil fruit power. I can…uh….make arms and feet and stuff appear anywhere.”
Briar stared at her for a moment, then found himself chuckling. “That’s a weird kind of magic,” he said, being entirely devoid of anything resembling tact. “I wish I could do that. You could kick people up the bum from across the street!”
“It’s not magic,” Robin said, but giggled. “You can kick people from across the street! I did it once. You can pinch them too!” She made a pinching gesture with her fingers and then giggled again. “Or spy on people.” She lowered her voice as though she were telling Briar a secret. “I used to do that a lot.”
“Looks like magic to me,” Briar said. “What else d’you call it?” He could definitely see the usefulness of being able to spy on people, and he’d be the best thief in Hajra if he could just grow fingers wherever he wanted. He took a tentative step towards the windowsill to get a closer look at the hand. “Can you feel it?” he asked. “Like if someone stabbed it, would that hurt?”
Robin stared at him blankly. Didn’t he hear her before? “It’s called a Devil Fruit Power.” She said simply.. The way he was talking, she was getting concerned that he may try to pinch the arm on the window sill. Or worse, stab it... “Of course it’d hurt!” She exclaimed. “It’s not attached to me, but it’s still my arm! Wouldn’t it hurt you if someone stabbed you in the arm?”
“Well, yeah, it did, but mine are on my body,” Briar pointed out, waving them in demonstration. “How’m I meant to know how it works? Mages.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to, I was just asking.” Experimentally he reached out and tickled the little hand on its palm.
“I’m not a mage,” Robin insisted. “I’m an archeologist --” her thought was cut off when Briar tickled the palm of the hand on the windowsill. The sensation made her squeal and squirm. “Hey! Stop it!” She said between giggles. With the break in concentration the arm and hand disappeared in a small poof of pink petals.
Briar grinned and poked at where the hand had been; it was a smooth wood surface again. But now he was close enough to touch the tiny tree, and his fingers were certainly itching to do so. He was only a little afraid of hurting it. It felt like it wanted him to touch it. Tentatively he laced his fingers through a couple of the sturdier looking branches and stroked the thick trunk. The next moment, something seemed to go through him. Something warm and bright and somehow green, and the little tree shuddered under his touch; suddenly little buds started sprouting up all over the tree, leaves sprouting, tiny branches growing in just a matter of seconds, until the shape it had been was barely recognisable.
He snatched his hand back, shocked. He felt dizzy, like he’d stood up too fast. “Did you do that?” he demanded of the girl, even though he knew she hadn’t.
Robin stared with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Wow!” She gasped, her expression quickly turning into one of glee. “You have powers too!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Do it again!”
“I do not,” Briar shot back, feeling very disturbed. “I’m no mage. It must have been the tree.” He turned to glare at it. Some of the leaves drooped a little. He stuffed his hands under his armpits just in case. It was stupid to have come here, he thought. There were too many strange things he didn’t understand. “I gotta go,” he muttered, and turned to make a quick exit, but just as he was reaching the door something came swooping through it, making him jump back. The thing made a chirruping, irritated kind of sound in Briar’s direction and carried on to land in Robin’s lap. It was about the size of a cat, a dragon made all out of glass. It cooed and rubbed its head against Robin’s leg as though making a demand for pets. Briar stared. “Um….”
“Don’t go!” Robin was about to leap up and stop Briar from leaving. He was the first child she had met who hadn’t been mean to her. Edwin and Nikolai were nice and all, but Robin really wanted to meet more children her own age. At least someone who may turn out to be the nakama Saul had told her to find. She had a feeling Briar was in a similar situation as herself.
However, before she could move, a creature flew into the room. At first Robin wasn’t sure what it was until it landed in her lap. Her blue eyes became even wider than they had been before and she took a sharp happy inhale of breath. “A dragon!” She said in barely a whisper for fear of scaring the creature. “I didn’t think they existed.” She looked up at Briar, nothing short of amazement in her eyes. “You own a dragon?!”
“No,,” Briar said. “I mean… I don’t think so.” He peered at the thing, curious anew. When he got too close the dragon hissed. “I don’t think it likes me.”
Robin frowned. “If it isn’t yours, then where did it come from?” The dragon hissed at Briar and Robin put her hand on its head and patted it gently. “Shhh,” she said soothingly. “Don’t be mean. Briar is a friend. He lives here.”
Briar was too fascinated by the creature to protest. It looked at him and made a begrudging sort of chirping noise, then lifted off and came to perch on his shoulder. Briar bit his lip and stayed very still while it explored his unruly hair with its tiny muzzle. He realised this must be the thing that had snapped at him when he had run out of the place when he had first arrived; he had thought it was a weird kind of dog, or something. He reached up and stroked one of the glass wings very carefully. The creature seemed to enjoy that. “This place is so strange,” he said, in the voice of the little boy he really was.
“See, it likes you!” Robin said. She came over to them and reached up to stroke the dragon’s little head as well. She glanced at Birar as she did. “This place is strange,” she agreed. “But it’s full of all kinds of wonderful things like this.” She smiled at the dragon. “Where did you come from, little dragon?”
The creature trilled, oddly bird-like, and its little glass talons dug into Briar’s shoulder for a moment as it took off and winged over to a large cushion which had been placed unobtrusively on a shelf in one corner. It curled up as though in demonstration. “I think it lives there,” Briar said, watching it as it tapped at a nearby metal box with its muzzle. The tapping made a tinging noise, swifting followed by the dragon’s impatient cry.
Briar went over and tried to open the box. It didn’t open, which wasn’t really a surprise. “Magic lock,” he muttered, mentally running through the short list of phrases he had memorised to undo the cheaper kinds of locking charms. “What’s in there, do you think?” Given everything he’d seen in this room so far, he was at the point where he had no idea what to expect.
Robin scampered over to the shelf the dragon had made itself comfortable and looked at the little box, her little lips pursed together in deep thought. “If it’s locked, it must be for something important,” she said thoughtfully. She looked up at where the dragon was curled up on its cushion. “She wanted whatever is inside,” she went on thoughtfully. “So maybe a toy?”
Briar wasn’t sure why he was bowing to the whims of a weird magic glass thing, but it was interesting, and he was curious by nature. He’d never seen magic like this, but if it was his room, maybe it was his dragon thing, unlikely as that seemed, and therefore his magic box. He didn’t think old-him would use a regular store-bought locking spell either. Experimentally he put his fingers on the wood surrounding the lock, where there was a bit of discolouration as though the top layer of dry wood had worn away to reveal newer stuff underneath. “Um, open?” he asked, feeling a bit foolish, and then, since he was already in for a penny, “Please?”
He felt an echo of that strange feeling, as though something were being pulled out of him, and as they watched the whole lock twisted in place and the lid of the box opened, the actual wood surface shifting and changing under his touch. Peering inside Briar saw some little vials of what looked like metal shavings. The little dragon made a triumphant noise and flapped its wings. “You want this stuff?” Briar asked doubtfully, pulling out one of the little vials.
Robin’s eyes went huge watching Briar and the box. Magic was so exciting! She wished she could do magic things!
She stood on her tip toes so she could see inside the box too. “What is it?” She asked. “What’s in there?”
Briar’s eyes widened a little as he inspected the contents of the vial. “Looks like gold,” he said, but who kept bits of gold dust in little jars in their room? The dragon chirruped again when he went to uncork the vial and walked along the shelf to watch him with disturbingly intelligent eyes. “Don’t s’pose you’re showing me this cos you want to make me rich?” he asked the dragon, who just glared at him. Obediently he emptied the vial into his hand, and the dragon leapt forward to lick the flecks of gold off his palm, which seemed like a terrible waste.
No wonder the box was locked if Briar was keeping gold in it! Robin was about to say just that when the dragon started to eat the gold flecks out of Briar’s hand! “Dragons eat gold?” She asked, as if Briar suddenly was knowledgeable about all-things dragon related. “Or maybe it just likes shiny things?” She reached into the pocket of her dress and produced a penny she had picked up from somewhere. She held it out for the dragon to see.
The dragon trilled and looked around with interest. It nibbled curiously at the edge of the coin before chomping the rest of it down, its tiny glass teeth apparently a lot less delicate than they looked. The little beast hiccuped a few times and then retched like a cat, spitting up a couple of copper-coloured glass flames which tinkled on the shelf as they fell. There were little gold specks in them. When Briar inspected the contents of the box more closely, there were several more of the things in different colours, some of which already had holes worked through them and chains attached as though to wear them. “No wonder he feeds it gold,” he said, forgetting in the moment to pretend he had any idea what was going on. “I bet those things are worth real coin. Pretty stuff, for dragon spit.”
Robin wrinkled her nose when the dragon seemingly barfed on the shelf. She glanced up at Briar as he spoke and then peered into the box herself. “Is all of that dragon spit?” She asked, deciding spit was better than barf. “Do people actually wear it?” Though she had to admit it was very pretty.
“I bet they would, if they knew it was magic,” he said. “Rich bags will pay anything for stuff even a little bit magical, and this thing,” he indicated the little dragon, “is definitely VERY magic.” The dragon seemed unhappy with being referred to as a ‘thing’, it hissed at him again and retreated back to its cushion.
Briar tucked a couple of the little glass bits into his pocket and put the rest of the stuff back in the box. He wasn’t especially tempted by the vials of precious dragon food, no matter what they might be worth. He didn’t need the creature coming after him for nicking its food, but it didn’t seem to mind who picked up its leavings. “I should go,” he said, sparing a last longing look at the freshly-blooming miniature tree. Now he had loot, even if no one objected to him taking it, he was itching to move again.
Robin was petting the dragon again when Briar announced he was leaving. “Wait!” she cried out before hurrying to him. She peered up at him with wide blue eyes. Staying with Edwin and Nikolai was nice, they both had been very kind to her. But Robin longed to have someone her own age around. Briar had been nice to her too. Well…he hadn’t thrown anything at her or called her names. That was enough for them to be friends, right? “Do you have to go?” She asked. “Can’t you stay a little longer? There’s a garden with a maze outside,” she said, pointing to the window. “We could go play!”
Briar hesitated. ‘Play’ was not exactly a word in his usual vocabulary. ‘Play’ was something little kids did, and he’d never really had the chance to be one of those. You didn’t play on the streets of Hajra, you stole enough to keep the Thief Lord happy or you went hungry. Or worse. But he’d been here long enough to know this place was different; at least in most ways. Someone might be a bit miffed at him taking little magicky baubles, but no one would get mad if he just ran around like an idiot. It seemed to be practically encouraged. He was still about to say no, but the look on the little girl’s eager face stalled him. “All right,” he said finally, with a sigh. “I’ll play. But you might have to show me how.”
Robin’s eyes lit up with excitement and her face broke out in a brilliant smile. It didn’t matter to her that Briar didn’t know how to play (truth be told, anything Robin knew she only did from watching the other kids of her island), she was just happy he agreed to play with her. She hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Briar!” She said into the fabric of his cut-up clothes. Then she grasped him by the hand and started for the door. “You’ll love the garden!” She said, then called over to the shelf. “You come too, Little Dragon! We’ll all have fun together!”