A/N : Warning for suicidal thoughts. Nothing majorly explicit but please be warned.
Robin leaned against the railing of the small caravel and watched as the blackness of night faded to a deep gray on the horizon. The dawn of another day was rising, and Robin would be the one to bear witness to its arrival.
It was a bittersweet affair for her. Dawn brought with it the promise of a new day, ripe with opportunities to discover the hidden truths of the past, but it also brought with it another day of existence, a state of being that she was growing rather tired of. She had dedicated her life to pursuing the past, but if those pursuits ever brought her one step closer to deaths door, she never minded.
She was so close to never seeing another sunrise again, were it not for the young captain of this ship. She still didn't know if she should thank him or throttle him in his sleep. She might never forgive him.
The creak of wooden boards alerted her to the presence of someone else. It seemed she would not be greeting this day alone after all. She turned her head just slightly, enough to catch sight of him in her peripheral vision. He moved with such careful precision, it was a wonder she'd heard his coming at all, though she realized that might have been for her benefit. He watched her with eyes the color of precious metal, and just as cold. He was a hunter, she could see, and she was his prey.
She turned her attention back to the sea and the sky. The cold grey of pre-dawn had given way to a myriad of muted colors, the sky tinted navy as the morning came. Behind her, there was another creak of floorboards, and then perfect silence. She could feel those eyes on her though, his stare watchful and pensive.
"I would say there's a ninety-nine percent probability of you killing me before the night ends," Robin said, a faint smile on her lips as she turned her back on the coming day and faced the swordsman behind her. He didn't immediately react to her words, so she continued. "But only a forty percent chance that I'll fight back."
One of his hands moved to grip the hilt of his sword, but his eyes never left her.
"Not giving yourself very good odds there," he said. His words were punctuated by the clink of metal as the sword popped free of its sheath. He didn't draw it yet, but the knowledge that he was free to do so at any moment hung between them.
"No," Robin agreed, "I'm not."
She was tempting death now, she knew. She had come so close so many times, and frankly, she was exhausted. She was ready to die if death would have her. She'd come so close the last time, she was sure it was the end, and yet they'd been interrupted. The captain of this crew had forced her to live despite her own wishes, it seemed only fitting for the swordsman of this crew to grant them. It was only fair. It was all she wanted.
They stood in silence. The sounds of waves breaking gently against the hull of the ship and of sea birds rising for their morning meals were the only things that punctuated that silence. The ship was quiet and still in the faint light of dawn.
The swordsman's golden eyes surveyed her, cold and calculating. He met his gaze with her own, her eyes beseeching him. She didn't want to see another dawn. She didn't want to greet another day.
His eyes seemed to glow as the first rays of light cascaded across the horizon, filling the sea and the tiny ship with warm light. For the first time, his eyes left hers flicking instead to the light of the rising sun, and he smirked.
"Should have bet on that one percent," he said, his sword clicking back into its place at his hip.
Robin turned to stare at the rising sun, squinting against its growing brightness until her eyes started to water. She could feel her heart sink in her chest, the pain and ache of another day blooming within her.
"You should know I'm dangerous," she said, not daring to meet his eyes again.
"Probably," the swordsman said. "But my captain wants you alive, so I'm going to keep you that way." He punctuated his statement with a yawn, and she could hear the creak of wood and the click of his boots as he turned to leave.
Robin was left standing alone, her hands curled into fists, facing the light of another day.