Work Text:
What Should Be, What Is
"You know, don't you?"
At Tanamil's question, Robin looked up. She'd been studying the sleeping forms of her younger brothers and sister, her mind wonderfully and deliciously blank for a precious moment. The question now brought everything flooding back. Only caution made her stay her first answer. "Know what?" she asked instead.
Tanamil's mouth quirked upwards with just the faintest hint of amusement. "I mean: you know."
Robin let a quiet sigh hiss through her lips, feeling herself deflate at the same time. "I don't," she said. "I don't know anything."
"And yet you do, all the same." Tanamil was still smiling but his tone was sympathetic. "Knowledge is your gift."
Robin said nothing and looked back down at Duck, who had a fistful of blanket drawn right up to his mouth. If she concentrated on Duck, perhaps her mind might go blank again and she could dodge this conversation.
"It's no good, I mean to talk to you and if you don't answer back, well, I'll just continue speaking all the same," said Tanamil. "I promised your mother that I would."
Robin's head whipped back around at that. "Mother is dead."
"Dead doesn't mean gone," said Tanamil. "But you know that."
"Stop telling me what I know," Robin snapped. "I don't know anything. I don't understand anything."
Tanamil's expression shifted from amusement to sympathy. "That's part of it, isn't it? You know but you don't understand. There is this vast lake of information that feels crammed and dammed up in your head and you can't make any sense of it. Am I close?"
Silently, Robin nodded.
Tanamil nodded in return. "You should stay on here. I can teach you what you need."
"Teach me?" Robin felt her cheeks flush with heat and she dropped her gaze. "I'm not sure I'd be a good student and Hern, at least, would be bored within days. Tanaqui too, probably."
"She needs her weaving," said Tanamil knowingly. "If I'd thought more on it, I might have been better prepared. But that's the thing of knowing a think will happen – you never quite know when."
Robin looked back up at him. "You knew we'd come?"
"Your father did promise your mother that you would, once you were of age." Tanamil shrugged. "Events would seem to have adjusted the time scale."
"Events." Robin snorted. "That's one term."
For a few minutes there was silence between them, punctuated only by the hiss and pop from the fire. Robin thought about his offer – staying here was far more appealing than continuing on towards the sea. Learning how to interpret the knowledge that was slowly crowding her mind and bringing it under her control was a very tempting offer indeed. Were it just her and Duck, she'd say yes faster than a bow shot. Hern and Tanaqui made things more difficult, but even allowing for their presence she realised that she very much wanted to say yes.
"We could stay, for a while at least," she said finally.
Tanamil's expression turned grave. "The children can't stay."
"What?"
"They've bound themselves to continue this journey."
"That's ridiculous. There is no reason for us to continue. It was only Gull's insistence and the need to leave Shelling that put us onto the river in the first place. Now we know that Gull shouldn't go..."
"But they're bound to go. They all bound themselves and I can't keep them here forever."
And just like that the prospect of staying evaporated in Robin's eyes. She deflated once more. "Then I shall have to go too."
"But you never bound yourself!" Tanamil objected. "Why should you go?"
"I did. I promised my mother, years ago—"
"If your mother knew what I was asking, she would tell you to do as I say," Tanamil cut in. "If she knew the circumstances."
"I don't believe that. Can't believe that." Robin shook her head. "I can't just let them go alone. I just can't."
"You can," Tanamil urged. "You need to. They'll be fine. They are much stronger than you think. You know that they have gifts of their own."
Robin stood suddenly, briskly rubbing her arms as though cold. She paced across to the fire and stood before it, warming herself as if it would resolve the mental chill she was feeling as well as the physical one.
"I can see you want to stay," Tanamil continued, his voice taking on a more reasonable tone. "Why won't you even consider it?"
A laugh bubbled up Robin's throat which she swallowed back lest she disturb her sleeping siblings. That was the problem: she had considered it. She had thought of putting herself first and now she felt guilty for even allowing the thought to enter her mind. No matter that she really, so very much wanted to understand what was happening inside her head. No matter that she emphatically did not want to continue the journey downstream.
"I can't. I promised mother I'd look after them."
Tanamil made a noise that sounded like a snarl although it lacked menace. "You know that the sorcerer is waiting for you and Gull, don't you?"
Robin turned her back to the fire and stared at him. "You said Gull was safe now."
"He is, for now. But you aren't."
"All the more reason why I can't allow Hern, Tanaqui and Duck to continue on alone, then. They'll need me. Need my help."
Tanamil regarded her for a few moments, his eyes shrewd. "You're not much like Closti."
Robin frowned. "What does that mean?"
"That for all your assertions, you don't have his toughness to fall back on."
Robin felt her cheeks flame hot, this time in shame. "What are you saying?"
"I can't see much of the future, but what I can see I don't like. If you go down to the river's mouth..." He trailed off for a moment. "They've inherited Closti's toughness. Hern is clever, Duck is devious and Tanaqui resourceful beyond her years. But you and Gull you're much more like your mother and—"
"Are you saying I'm feeble?"
"Feeble? No. Of course not." Tanamil let out a sigh of frustration.
"Then what?" Robin demanded. "If I stay here while they go off into danger, what would you really think of me? I know what I'd think of myself. I cannot stay. When they go, I go too."
Tanamil finally nodded. Every line in his face was edged with worry and fear on her behalf but Robin found she knew that this was right. It seemed that at some point during their discussion that ocean of knowledge had started to settle. Her head no longer felt as if it was stuffed beyond its capacity and some parts of it had even begun to actually make real sense beyond mere intuition.
"I would have liked to have stayed, you know," she said softly. "Never think that I wouldn't like to stay."
"I promise." Tanamil gestured to the blanket pile. "You should get some proper sleep, while you can."
Robin nodded. "Thank you. For...everything."
Tanamil smiled. It was a sad expression. "Come back this way, when everything is finished."
"I will." But even as she promised it, Robin suspected that it wouldn't come to pass.
Whatever they were going to face at the river's mouth, it was going to mean life wouldn't be the same again. She snuggled down into the blanket nest in the space next to Tanaqui. That would be tomorrow's problem to worry over. For now all she needed to do was sleep. Tomorrow would take care of itself.