InsaneJournal

Robin was so glad Edwin was feeling better. He certainly looked better than he had the last few days. Robin didn’t understand how someone could “accidentally” dump magical sludge into Vallo’s drinking water and it had angered her that someone could be so careless. Fortunately, she had the opportunity to funnel that energy into helping her friends who’d suffered the brunt of the affects.


Plus, Edwin was outside! When she’d invited him to join her for dinner on her new houseboat she’d been fully prepared to go to Sutton Cottage and physically remove him from his library to come eat with her. Edwin meant a lot to her and while on the one hand she could respect his desire to be alone, she also wanted to show him that there were people still in Vallo who cared very much about him. She was very happy (and relieved) when he’d agreed to meet her.

“Welcome aboard the Still Waters.” She said as she helped him step onto the boat. Robin wasn’t an extremely expressive person, but she was so happy that she couldn’t help the smile on her face. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”

Edwin had been trying to be more sociable. He was painfully aware that Nikolai wouldn’t approve of him shutting himself away in Sutton Cottage, reverting to the life he’d had before Nikolai had inserted himself into Edwin’s life. Darlington had pried the door open, and perhaps Edwin should try peeking out once in a while.

Dinner on Robin’s boat seemed just the thing to ease him back. He’d had dinner with Robin a couple of times since Nikolai had left, though it had just as often been Robin dropping off some food and Edwin finally prying himself away from his books hours later to eat it cold in the middle of the night. But other than it being outside of Sutton Cottage, it wasn’t anything that had been too out of the ordinary since Nikolai’s disappearance.

It would be a good practice run for Darlington’s dinner party the following evening. That, or it would drain his small reservoir of social energy sooner, and he’d regret the decision. He’d worried about that a little, after the last few days of his own magic making him sick.

Edwin had never been on a houseboat before. He’d seen them, sometimes, floating down the Camden lock in North London, but he’d never had much interest in boarding one, and even less interest in befriending any of the people who lived on them. He accepted Robin’s help up onto the deck, and took a moment to adjust to the gentle rocking under his feet.

“I brought some wine,” he said, brandishing the bottle. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh, thank you.” Robin took the wine from him. Wine wasn’t nearly as prevalent in her world as sake and beer, but she had learned just enough from Sanji to have a basic idea what wine went with what dish. She smiled at her guest, “this should go very well with our meal.” She motioned to the door to the interior of the boat. “Come in!”

Robin had done quite a bit to get herself settled into her new dwelling. The main living space of the boat was cozy. A plush cushion adorned the built-in coach along one of the walls. Two tear-drop shaped wicker chairs had been suspended from the ceiling to provide additional seating. On the opposite wall was the centerpiece of the space (and the reason Robin had chosen this particular houseboat): a set of shelves built directly into the wall in between the windows. Robin didn’t have the ship's library here that she had back on board the Sunny, but she was quickly working on fixing that. Above the shelves she had strung up some lights to give the space a soft inviting glow. Light jazz played quietly from a set of speakers she had on the counter that led to the galley.

“Make yourself at home,” Robin said, motioning to the couch. “I’ll pour us a couple of glasses of this,” she held up the bottle.

Edwin had never stood on a boat so small; he’d gone rowing, of course, but one generally didn’t stand in a rowboat unless they cared to go for a swim. He’d spent no small amount of time worrying about whether or not he’d embarrass himself by losing his balance, but while there was a gentle rocking underfoot, it seemed easy enough to remain upright.

He didn’t miss the bookshelves, and immediately his mind turned to what books he might gift Robin to help fill them. Something leatherbound, he thought. Perhaps some classic novels? He wondered if anything in Penhallick might be appropriate.

When Robin spoke, he nearly startled so lost in going over Penhallick’s catalogue was he. “It’s a lovely houseboat,” Edwin said, taking a seat on the couch. “It feels very homey. I suppose it’s not very like the ship you had lived on back home though.”

“Yes and no,” Robin answered. She poured each of them a glass of wine. A pair of hands brought the glass over to Edwin. “The Going Merry wasn’t a big ship, but she was bigger than this. The Thousand Sunny dwarfs this by comparison. But, they were both built with an idea of comfort in mind, more or less. I actually have a bit more space here for living quarters than the Merry did.”

She joined Edwin on the little couch. “Have you done much sailing?” She asked. “You’re doing very well.”

“I would hardly consider this sailing,” Edwin said dryly. Sitting in a dock was not the same as entering the open ocean. “But no, I’ve never gone sailing at all. There was a lake at my family estate, and I’d gone rowing often enough, but no, I’ve never done much on the open ocean. I’m not what one might consider adventurous.”

Robin smiled. “Oh, no, this isn’t sailing at all,” she agreed. “This is just sitting at a dock. If you’re interested, maybe I could take you sailing one day? Not in this, of course,” she quickly added, with a faint melodic chuckle. “This certainly wasn’t made to be out on the open water. But perhaps we can rent a small boat of some kind. I’ve been sailing my whole life. This is the first time in a very long time I have stayed in one spot for so long.” Not that Vallo gave her much choice in the matter.

Edwin hesitated. He’d never been especially keen on the idea of new experiences. He knew that Nikolai would have encouraged it. Nikolai, who had spent some time as a pirate privateer before he’d become king would have welcomed the opportunity to sail with Robin, and he would have dragged Edwin along, kicking and screaming with him.

“Perhaps,” he answered after a time, if only because it would make him feel closer to the man he’d lost.

That was going to be the best Robin got from him. She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “Good,” she said, knowing full well she was going to have to continue to pester him until he either told her to bugger off or agreed to go with her. Everyone needed people in their lives who cared about them. Hers had never given up on her and she wasn’t about to give up on Edwin.

“I’ll get dinner started,” she said. She took another sip of her wine and got to her feet, making her way to the kitchen. “You said you were going to a dinner party tomorrow?” She asked as she went. “That sounds exciting. Tell me about that.”

“I suppose,” Edwin said dryly, in a way that suggested that excitement was not what he looked for in an evening. He stood and followed Robin, then found a wall to lean against where he’d be out of her way. “Nikolai disappeared amongst a good deal of people, including Alex and Callum, the partners of Miss Sabrina Spellman and Mr. Daniel Arlington, and I suppose they’ve decided to host some sort of ‘practice being human again’ dinner party.” He took a sip of his wine and sighed. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready to practise being human again, but Darlington and Gansey wouldn’t allow me to decline the invitation.”

He paused, and then sighed.

“No, that’s not fair. I think they would have accepted it if I’d insisted. They did try to… succeeded at talking me out of it, though. Nikolai, I think, would have been disappointed if I didn’t go. He always enjoyed a good party. I don’t think I’ll be especially good company, though.”

Robin couldn’t help the small smile as she prepared the chicken for their meal. It was a warm smile, but with a hint of sadness behind her eyes. “The heartache after losing someone you love is the hardest to go through, especially on your own.” Robin spoke carefully, drawing on her own experience of being alone for so long. “I don’t know if Nikolai would be disappointed in you for not going.” She placed the first bit of chicken into the pan. “But I do think he would be sad if you shut out the people who care about you.” The smell of herbs and spices quickly wafted from the kitchen. She looked up from the pan and gave him a small, but rueful smile.

Edwin didn’t smile. He hadn’t smiled since Nikolai had disappeared back home, or wherever it was that he had gone. But there was was a slight tightening around the corners of his lips that seemed to suggest that he’d made some sort of failed, half-hearted attempt to return Robin’s smile.

“He would be,” Edwin agreed. He sighed, and then conceded, “I would be too, I think. I’d gone nearly my entire life where the only company I cared for was my own. It’s truly astounding how quickly one can grow accustomed to the company of others.”

Robin placed the other piece of chicken into the pan. She watched it sizzle for a moment before she moved to the little sink to wash her hands before she moved on to making their salad. As she dried her hands she studied Edwin carefully, her brows knitting together just slightly, as though she were trying to make up her mind. “Edwin, can I tell you something?” She asked. “Something a little personal?”

I’d rather you didn’t.

That was the first thing Edwin thought, and was very nearly the words he spoke, but he stopped himself. Robin had, somehow, managed to become a rather close friend of his. He didn’t have many of those, and he valued her friendship a great deal. And sometimes, friends told friends personal things, even if emotional intimacy was still something of a novel concept to him.

“If you would like to,” he said instead.

Robin gauged his response carefully. She was concerned about oversharing and not only making dinner itself awkward, but spooking Edwin. That was the last thing she wanted. But at the same time, she trusted Edwin and she wanted to show him that she did. She chewed the inside of her lip before turning back to the cutting board. “I miss my crew,” she said. “I miss them so, so much. They are the only people in the whole world who didn’t think I was some kind of monster. They were - are -- my family.”

She started cutting the tomato. “The last time I saw them a very powerful man had caused each of them to disappear one by one. Then he did the same to me. Next thing I knew I was sitting in the office of the DOA.” She moved a few tomato slices to the side of the cutting board and looked up at him again. “For a while after I arrived here I felt so alone and a little bit scared. But then I met you and despite being very curious about my power, you didn’t treat me like a freak or a monster. You were nice to me and I wasn’t so lonely anymore. I can never thank you enough for that.”

Robin felt her cheeks growing hot and, fearful she had overshared, looked back at the half-cut tomato. “I’m sorry,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “That was very sappy. Forgive me.”

Edwin opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then tried again. It felt rather like there was something stuck in his throat, some aching ball that made it impossible for him to speak. There was an ache in his chest, but a warmth, too, and he wouldn’t have described it as entirely unpleasant.

It was just, when Robin said all that, Edwin was nearly certain that she’d be snatched away from him too. Walter wasn’t here in Vallo to either frighten or cajole all of Edwin’s friends away from him like he had for most of Edwin’s life, but Vallo itself were, and that was nearly worse. Because Edwin had been certain that Nikolai wouldn’t have let Walter separate them, and while he was less certain, he did have a certain amount of confidence that Robin wouldn’t have let him separate them either. But there was nothing any of them could do when it came to Vallo and its whims.

Robin, the Robin back home, Robin Blyth, had taught Edwin that sometimes, it was okay to want something, and that it was even more okay to pursue it. That not every horrible thought that Edwin had would come to pass. And so, maybe a fear of losing Robin, Nico Robin, shouldn’t stop Edwin from accepting her friendship.

But maybe, too, he would have been better off if he’d never allowed himself to fall in love with Nikolai Lantsov, only for Vallo to give him the birthday present of taking Nikolai away from him. Maybe, he would have been better, safer, happier, if he had never allowed Nikolai into his life. Maybe if he could do it all over again, he’d keep Nikolai an arm’s length away.

And very suddenly, he knew that wasn’t true at all. If he could do it all over again, he’d have done it all the same. If he could do it all over again, he’d have let himself fall sooner for Nikolai, so they could have had more time together, and less time dancing around their feelings for one another. And even if Vallo was just going to snatch Nikolai away at the end of it all over again, well, Edwin still would have done it.

He cleared his throat, and took another sip from his wine glass. The silence after Robin’s confession had lingered, but Edwin always liked to gather his thoughts before he began speaking. But even knowing exactly what he wanted to say, he still struggled with actually getting the words out.

“Yes, well, you put up with all my hundreds of questions without once telling me to shut up, so I think we might be even on that score,” he said, and some fondness managed to creep into his voice. “I’m sorry you were taken from your family. I hope someday you’ll be lucky enough to have them here. But…” he cleared his throat again. “I’m not… People don’t usually tell me that I make them feel less lonely. I’m … I’m glad that I could help. So thank you, too, for being my friend. And for checking on me, once Nikolai was taken. You… I’m sorry. I’m not very good with words. Or people. Or friends. But you’ve made me feel less lonely too. So thank you. Again.” The last words had trailed into an awkward mumble, and he was fairly sure that he’d managed to botch his entire speech.

Robin looked up from the board again and smiled at him happily. The corners of her eyes crinkling a little with just how pleased she was to hear him say those things. “I’m glad I’ve been able to help,” she said. “I know it’s not easy, and I’m not always the best with people either. But I think we can learn how to be better at it together, right?”

A sizzling behind her caught her attention. The chicken! “Oh!” She turned quickly and an arm sprouted from the counter top. It grabbed up a spatula to flip the chicken breast on to the other side. Robin frowned as she inspected it. It wasn’t burnt, thankfully. She couldn’t help a relieved laugh. “Well, the chicken will be ready soon. Do you want to help me finish up the salad and then we can eat?”

Edwin eyed the salad dubiously. The last time he’d attempted anything more difficult than buttering toast, he and Nikolai had nearly burned Sutton Cottage down. He tried to ignore how painful that particular memory was. This didn’t actually involve cooking anything. He would not burn Robin’s houseboat down, and even if he did, well, they were surrounded by water. The worst that could happen was that a rogue wave would hit, and then he’d chop off one of his fingers, and then he’d… okay, well, he’d still be able to cradle spells – he had been learning how to do one-handed cradles, after all – but it would be difficult.

He wasn’t going to chop off one of his fingers.

“Of course,” he answered, and joined her at the counter, and when the warm feeling of doing something simple with your friend hit him, he didn’t try to ignore it.