Chapter 9 - Trust
The cheerful clapping continued until Robin took a step forward and commandingly addressed the crowd of soldiers and volunteers to calm them down. "Alright everyone, the show is over, get back to work!"
Obediently, whispering amongst themselves about the duel they had just witnessed between Maeve and the Radakeel, men and women slowly dispersed and went back to their respective tasks while Robin walked over to the two women.
He gave a sharp, pointed look at Leisa.
The Radakeel though, unflinching, tossed him a pointed look of her own. "You better take good care of her, General," she told him, tilting her head towards Maeve. Her comment almost sounded like a warning.
"Don't you have volunteers to train?" Robin's sharp gaze fixed the woman.
Leisa's mouth curved into a smirk. She dipped her head at the General and then addressed Maeve. "You can keep the daggers."
Before Maeve could figure out if she was supposed to say thank you, the Radakeel turned on her heels and strolled back to the group of men she'd been fighting with earlier, her mane of red braids swinging behind her.
Maeve watched her leave, unable to decide if she could trust the Radakeel or not. What had just happened between them was beyond her comprehension, no matter how hard she tried to understand the other woman's behaviour. Just thinking about the unearthly, mind and body-ripping pain of the dreadful Sleyan made her skin tingle with icy recollection. She never wanted to touch the terrible weapons ever again.
When Leisa was gone, Robin finally faced Maeve, somewhat hesitantly, handing her back her leather jacket through the veil of tension floating between them. He poked through it nonetheless, his husky voice thick with concern. "Are you alright?"
There was a softness in his words, soaked with guilt, as if he knew he should have told her the truth about who he was from the start. There was also a new uncertainty in his composure, as if he no longer knew how to act around her, as if the familiarity that had woven its way between them since this morning was gone. But he risked a move to touch her nonetheless, placing his hand tentatively at the small of her back to nudge her into motion.
Maeve allowed him to lead her away from the buzz of activity in the courtyard, still too shaken and unsettled by what had just taken place to push him away. Her breathing was back to normal, but the anger that had powered her final strikes in the fight was still steaming hot in her veins, along with the simmering feeling of betrayal she still felt towards him. Her patience was about to run short.
"What was that all about?" she hissed, anger sparking in her voice.
Robin walked her towards the flights of white stairs leading up inside the Council. "You just proved to Leisa you're worth her protection."
"Excuse me?" she snapped again, annoyed by the puzzling, nonsensical answer.
They stepped up the first flight of stairs to the first landing and then up the next flight towards the towering white marble columns shielding the massive double oak doors.
"Radakeels are ruthless killers but they are also remarkable protectors," Robin explained calmly. "Essentially, that's what they are: guardians, sworn by an oath to protect the person they are assigned to at all cost."
"You mean like some sort of bodyguard?" Maeve tried to make her annoyance cool down as she struggled to piece together what Robin was telling her. When they reached the grand doors, she slipped the daggers Leisa had offered her into her boots and wriggled her arms back into her jacket. She was glad to be armed with the weapons; it made her feel less vulnerable in this strange world filled with mysteries that no one wanted to explain to her. Knowing she could pull the daggers out at any moment if danger reared its ugly head was definitely a comfort she was glad to have.
"That's one way of putting it," Robin said as he pulled open one of the tall oak doors. "Once they have sworn their protection to someone, and especially if they consider that person worthy of their protection, they'll stop at nothing to keep them out of harm's reach, even it if it means giving up their own life."
When they slipped inside the Council into a large fore room of white granite floor with cushiony benches and chairs evenly spaced along the curved walls next to a few small tables holding vases of blooming flowers, Maeve grabbed Robin's arm and turned him to her. "Wait, you mean to tell me that now that I've earned Leisa's respect by defeating her in combat, she'll protect me with her life? That's absurd. Why would she do that? Why would she even want to confront a complete stranger just to see if that person was worthy of her protection? That doesn't make any sense."
Robin lowered his blue eyes at her words and placed his hand at the small of her back again, urging her forward down a broad hallway to the left. "Radakeels can have peculiar behaviors sometimes," he said, offering an empty explanation Maeve knew was anything but the truth, while they walked down a long corridor flanked on one side by a series of tall narrow windows with deep blue draperies hanging up high, with sunlight shining through on the granite floor at bright regular intervals.
"Alright, enough," Maeve snapped once and for all, like a twig finally breaking after bending too long and too hard. She stepped in front of him to block him resolutely, plunging her eyes deep into his blue ones as her voice took on a serious, heated edge. "I don't know what's going on here but you're going to explain it to me right now," she demanded firmly, harsh determination gleaming in her eyes. "Why is everyone looking at me the way they are, with such awe and wonder in their eyes? Why does every room I step into suddenly grows quiet as if a ghost had just walked in? Why?" Maeve waved her arm towards the window next to them where they could see the courtyard. "Why did Leisa want to know if I was a sorceress? Why did she want to make sure I could fight? Why did she test me like that, as if she wanted to verify who I was? What's going on?" She raised a warning finger between their faces before she steadfastly added, "And don't say it's because of the color of my hair because we both know that's nothing but a cover up for the truth."
When she was done blurting out all the questions weighing on her mind, Robin regarded her carefully, his composure stiff as he drew in a breath to brace himself. "Whether you believe me or not, Maeve, red hair does have an important meaning in Kalladrell."
"Which brings me back to my question," Maeve replied firmly. "Why?"
"You wouldn't understand," Robin sighed wearily with a reluctant shake of his head, as if he didn't even know where to begin. "There's too much to explain and not enough time."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Maeve frowned in rising confusion and bubbling suspicion. Robin's words just proved to her that there was more to this than just her hair color, but still he was providing nothing but short, cryptic and elusive answers. It was driving her mad.
"Look, I know a lot of things have happened since this morning and that it all happened really fast," Robin started emphatically, his features softening. "You've been catapulted in a distant world with total strangers you're not yet sure you can trust and I don't blame you, considering what just happened with Leisa-"
"She almost killed me," Maeve cut him off sharply.
"But she didn't," Robin insisted calmly. "And she wouldn't have."
"Right, because of my hair color," Maeve snorted sarcastically.
Robin sighed again heavily, wiping a hand across his face as he began pacing in front of her. He looked like he was dangerously close to reaching the end of his wits. "Do you trust me?" he asked her abruptly. "Have I given you any reason so far not to trust me?"
Caught off guard by his sudden question, Maeve pressed her lips together firmly and looked away, anger seeping back into her skin as he cornered her with his words, but her stubborness took over and she quickly met his eyes again. The current of tension sizzling between them as they stood facing each other was almost visible in the air, like steam and smoke mingling together, and she didn't like it.
Robin had saved her life this morning in the woods. He had taken her back to his city, offered her a warm meal, bought her a fitting outfit for the trek through the Blind Mountains, an expedition he was allowing her to take part in so she could reach Dim-Dim's friend who needed her help. He had literally taken her under his protective wing the moment he met her. He was the General of an entire army, the figure of authority, security and protection of the city of Southampton. Thousands of people trusted him with their life, and after everything that had happened this morning, as hard as she tried to deny it, Maeve did trust him in her own way. If there was but one person she knew she could trust on Kalladrell so far, it was Robin.
There was no doubt in her mind that the man before her was a man of courage and nobility, of generosity and justice, a man who protected innocents, righted wrongs and valued life, and as he patiently waited for an answer, she could see in his eyes the same selfless qualities she saw in Sinbad's eyes. Both men had amounted to being warriors of good, she could feel it...and yet she knew so little of Robin...who he truly was...he was still a complete stranger...
She let out a long, weary breath, her shoulders slacking as the anger and tension rooted in her muscles slowly dissipated. "No," she replied simply, her voice softening for the first time since the young soldier had unexpectedly revealed Robin's true rank in the courtyard. "I guess I do trust you."
At her words, Robin leaned back a little on his heels, as if her honest admission rocked him with an invisible shove. Looking humbled and relieved, his small eyes forever grateful, he nodded solemnly. "Good." Then he stood tall like the General he was and risked a step closer to her, his body radiating with protection, his features suddenly deadly serious and his voice sharp as a blade. "Then trust me again when I tell you this: no one on this island is going to harm you, Maeve. No one will ever lay a finger on you. Not me. Not my friends. Not the Radakeels. No one."
A cold shiver travelled down her spine at the intensity of his declaration, and she had to swallow hard past the sudden twist in her throat. He was serious, dead serious, and she couldn't fathom why. There was such a devoted passion shining in his hooded eyes that she could do nothing but believe him. She would be safe here in Kalladrell. She couldn't understand why these people would protect her without even knowing who she was, but right now she believed him.
"Looks like people with red hair around here are very important," she commented with a small voice.
Robin smiled a little, although his features remained profoundly solemn. "You have no idea."
With the veil of tension easing off between them a little, and the previous familiarity settling in again, he gently nudged her forward to resume their march down the long corridor. "Come on, there's something urgent I have to care of."
Maeve went with him willingly, silently deciding that, even though many pieces of the puzzle were still missing, pieces that Robin obviously knew about but refused to tell her—why, she had no clue—she would agree to settle with what he had just given her for the time being. If she were to be safe here, then she supposed it was enough for her to go on at the moment. After all, she would be no use to Dim-Dim's friend, Jacob, if she was dead. More to the point, with the crossing of the Blind Mountains starting at dawn on the morrow, she could understand where Robin's priorities lay for the time being. It still frustrated her to be left in the dark like this but she bit her tongue quietly, shifting her attention to her surroundings instead.
When they reached the end of the long corridor of granite floor bathed in the sunlight of the tall narrow windows, Robin rounded a right corner where he yanked another door open, which revealed yet another hallway, this time shorter and with wood paneled walls on each side, and a richly green carpet that ran all the way in the center of the hall, muffling the sound of their boots as they walked. Maeve let her eyes wander on the walls where a variety of framed paintings were displayed, representing ancient battles and conquests, with knights and warriors in shining armours like gods descended from the Skylands upon the earth to drive back the forces of darkness.
As she truly began to take it all in, the elegance of the interior of the Council rendered her completely speechless. While everything had been exquisitely bright with sunbathed marble and polished granite in the round entry room and the first hallway Robin had lead her through, oil lamps with silver reflectors held in iron brackets now replaced the sunrays and cast warm golden hues on the richly wood-paneled walls they were passing by with their epic paintings.
There was something about this place...Maeve thought with a weird shrug, not just the Council of Southampton she was now discovering from the inside, but the Island of Kalladrell as a whole, that somehow kept her anxiously on edge with her nerves ready to crack, as if the entire land was vibrating with ancient history, powerful history, with legends of old and their heroes ready to leap off the walls at any moment, like tormented ghosts yearning to finish unfulfilled destinies.
Yanking her eyes off the breathtaking and bone-shuddering sceneries of battle, when they reached the round-topped opening at the end of the hall, Maeve almost gasped when they emerged on the left side of a wide, enormous room.
As the thumps of their boots echoed again, marking the end of the long green carpet, Maeve's attention was immediately drawn to the impressive room in question to her right, where two sections of long polished wooden benches were separated by a middle lane that ran up to the front. There, in a section slightly elevated up a few steps, stood an imposing semi-circle table with a dozen chairs, and she reasoned that this was the main council chamber where audiences and assemblies of the city of Southampton were held.
As they marched down the left portion of that immense room, behind a small railing that reached up to Maeve's thigh and which purpose was to separate the side corridor from the benches, Maeve noticed that the ceiling above them was way lower than the ceiling above the long wooden seats. Craning her neck, she noted with bewilderment that the assembly room was topped up high by a massive glass dome supported by finely carved and sculpted marble arches, with the sun shining through the glass and lighting up the entire room with a bright glow.
Maeve also noticed that the second floor was entirely composed of big balconies with thick, hourglass-shaped railings that spanned all around the assembly, probably meant for citizens who wished to assist the Council's audiences. That's why the ceiling above their heads was low; they were marching under the length of the balconies.
Gaping in quiet wonder, Maeve would have loved to admire all the rich details of the bright white room but Robin was already leading her through another door and up a small stairway that spiraled up on itself like a pig's tail. He then took her down a long, wood-paneled corridor with decorative shields hung up on either side of a series of doors.
Marching across the white granite floor, Robin led her to the third door and held it opened for her.
Maeve walked in and was immediately stunned by what she saw; a breathtaking study in the middle of which stood a massive mahogany desk right in front of a high window framed by long green velvet drapes. Bulky bookcases rested in every corner, as well as glassed cabinets holding knives and swords.
Stopping next to a pair of cushioned chairs sitting around a three-legged round table holding a vase of fragrant wild orchids, Maeve marveled at the room. With a vibrant, strong and comforting aura, it clearly belonged to someone of important rank but despite its luxurious appearance, it still had a humble, austere and practical touch.
Robin walked over to the desk, which was submerged by a ton of paperwork. "It's on very short notice but I have to send a messenger as soon as possible to the blacksmith, Dave, so he can forge and deliver dozens of new chimes by tomorrow at dawn, if I can find the bloody permit..." he explained as he rummaged through the documents scattered on the desk and mumbled to himself. "The man is as greedy as they come, but unfortunately he's also the fastest smith in town..."
"Chimes?" Maeve asked a little-absent mindedly as she registered that this was Robin's office. "What do you need chimes for?"
Robin seemed to pause and bite his lips for a moment. "Err..they're a special kind of weapons."
"Huh-huh," Maeve nodded, but her attention was diverted somewhere else.
As Robin went back to shuffling through the mess of papers on his desk, her eyes fell on the leather-bound books all neatly lined-up in the bookcase to her left. Twisting her neck, she scanned the titles, which for the most part all bore reference to Kalladrell's topography and military tactics, while a few others spoke of past history and ancient battles; the Dark Wars, the Light Era...
Every title Maeve read served to remind her of how little she knew of the island she was on, of its history, its culture...Kalladrell was a complete mystery to her, and yet the more she discovered about its people, its grand architecture, its acceptance of magic, and its current crisis with the Blood Raiders attacking its shores, the more she wanted to learn about it. For a reason that escaped her, she somehow felt incredibly drawn to the island, as if something about Kalladrell felt oddly, distantly familiar...
But Maeve shrugged the feeling off and let her gaze wander to the other side of the room, where a large map in a wood-carved frame was displayed on the wall.
Her heart skipped a painful a beat, the prospect of finally being able to orientate herself in the world striking the air from her lungs. With hope wildly fluttering in her chest as she blindly wondered if she was close to a port the Nomad might know, she hurried over to the wall and her brown eyes immediately set to work, quickly adjusting to the style, colors and set of lines drawn on the map.
She felt her heart sink when she realized it was solely a map of Kalladrell, with only minor indications of what lay around and beyond the island; nothing of significant value to truly help her locate her whereabouts in the world beyond the edges of the map.
Still, Maeve managed to pinpoint her current location and decided it couldn't hurt to have an idea of the general layout of the land. Tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, she leaned closer to the frame to take in as many details as she could.
The city of Southampton was in the lowest part of the island, way down in the south and sealed off by the ragged lines and rough edges of the daunting Blind Mountains that ran all the way from the eastern shore to the western one. They couldn't even be circled around because their rocky cliffs ended right where the ocean began, and Maeve could see that deadly reefs continued even into the water, making it extremely dangerous for ships to even attempt to sail in these areas. It was a miracle the villager from Denwood had made it through with only a little fishing boat, as Robin had told her earlier.
As it was, it seemed that Southampton was an isolated little appendix, but once on the other side of the Blind Mountains though, the rest of Kalladrell was huge. Maeve spotted Denwood, closest to the shore to the east, as well as a couple of other villages scattered at the foot of a widespread forest. At the opposite side to the west and a little bit up to the north was the city of Littleton, standing tall and proud on an elevated plateau, the central point around which sat another collection of small villages.
As Maeve's eyes continued their way up the map, virtually traveling ever more to the north, she finally spotted the important city of Erindale, where the Central Council of Kalladrell was seated. Its location, marked out with a big seven-branched star beside the name, was very peculiar and unlike anything Maeve had ever seen. It was sitting at the inner rim of an almost perfectly round bay which nearly sealed itself off, only letting a small passage for ships coming in from the sea beyond. But even then, Maeve doubted that ships could make it through without damage because another series of deadly reefs guarded the entrance to the bay. Only highly experienced sailors could maybe succeed the deed in one piece, if they weren't suicidal.
As for the other side of Erindale, its inland side, it was no more impressive. The city was belted in by a layer of jagged mountains and thick forests, through which a complicated network of roads and passes seemed to weave their way inward and outward, going to and from the city. It was absolutely fascinating. From where it stood, the city was like a fortress, most likely impossible to besiege because of its specific location, and with what she had so far seen of Kalladrell, Maeve could only imagine the magnificent splendour of such a place, with even taller, towering buildings, exquisite architecture and elegant sculptures, and unrivalled grace and beauty. Marvelling at the map, she found herself wishing she would have the chance to visit the place someday.
Finally, at the north-west peak of the island, after an immensely vast plain and a few barren hills called the Hills of Avalis which were flanked to the east by the White Woods, was the concluding city of Norchester, with its thick defensive walls and searing towers.
And then there was something that didn't make sense.
All around the northern parts of the island, Maeve noticed that the edges were all cut short by rocky cliffs that seemed to go down at a straight angle into the sea below, and then, on the highest eastern peak, was a bridge. A slender, endless long bridge that hovered out above the sea, above a channel called the Han.
With a frown creasing her brow, Maeve's eyes followed the bridge as it travelled all the way across the wide expanse of water, for what she estimated was at least a good three miles, to reach the high rocky cliffs of the western edge of the island of Tyross.
Totally baffled, Maeve stared at the drawing on the map, wondering if what she was looking at really was a stone bridge or not. Common sense told her that it was wasn't, that it couldn't be, that such a thing as a bridge connecting two islands together was impossible, that the structure itself would surely collapse due to the distance it had to cover without proper support, but then her eyes fell on the words scribbled over the curious construction: the Han's Pass.
Frowning in confusion, she turned to Robin, who was still rummaging through the stacks of documents on his desk in rising desperation. "How is this possible?"
"What?" Robin mumbled, not even raising his eyes as he stubbornly searched for a specific paper.
Maeve pointed to the map even though he wasn't looking at her. "That stone bridge all the way to the north. How is such a thing possible?"
Finally raising his head up, Robin seemed to register her words as he took in where she was pointing. "The Han's Pass?" When she nodded, he briefly scanned a new pile of papers before continuing on with a shrug. "It was constructed by the wizards during the Dark Wars thousands of years ago, but no one really knows why. The debate as to the purpose of its creation still rages on..."
Maeve could only blink at Robin's words as they trailed off in the room. She recalled the book she had seen in the bookcase that was titled the Dark Wars. The magic of wizards surely explained how such a bridge could hold in place but still, she couldn't help but wonder at its practicality. "Is it still safe to use?"
Robin's eyes surfed on the papers in his hands. "Not really," he answered. "The Han's Pass is a very tricky, rocky and narrow place to travel on. Legend says that it's impossible to cross, that people fall down to their death into the Han even before reaching the middle of the bridge."
With such odds, Maeve could only imagine how narrow the bridge must be. "Have you ever been up there?" she asked.
As if sensing the curiosity in her voice, Robin raised his head to look at her again. "I've seen the place," he smiled at the memory, "but I didn't dare step on the thing lest it disintegrated under my weight. The pass is thousands of years old. Most people don't even venture close to it for fear the entire facade of the cliff might topple down."
When Robin went back to his desperate quest to find the document he needed, Maeve's her eyes went back to the map as she let the overall layout of Kalladrell imprint into her mind. She was about to turn her attention elsewhere when something ticked her off.
"That city," she pointed to the map again. "Littleton, on the other side of the Blind Mountains to the west. Why don't they bring aid to Denwood? They're closer than we are."
Robin began opening drawers from the desk. "They are bringing aid," he assured her with confidence. "From what the surviving villager from Denwood told us two days ago when he arrived here, a few appointed people from his village, after the raid, fled to seek help in the different cities in the area. Littleton's troupes will most certainly already be there when we arrive. Because of the Blind Mountains in our way, it's no surprise we'll be the last ones to make it."
A small smile spread on Maeve's lips as she finally abandoned the map and walked over to the desk. "The people from Kalladrell seem to have a strong sense of solidarity and generosity."
Robin met her eyes and returned her smile. "Aye, we do. Kalladrell may be a big island with many cities and villages, but in the end we're all part of the same big family."
"Sounds like a great place to call home," Maeve mused out loud as her fingers fiddled with a pile of paper, memories of Eire suddenly flashing back to her, although calling the people of her homeland 'one big happy family' was far from adequate.
Robin seemed to read her mind as she grew silent. "The people in your homeland weren't as tightly knitted together?"
Maeve almost huffed at the idea. "People from the same village and clan, yes, but outside that virtual tribal community, everything is pretty fragmented. Clans constantly compete with each other over territory, cattle, gold…anything that can be fought over really, even women." Unpleasant memories of her father fighting against a giant mountain of a man with frightening tattoos painted all over his face filled Maeve's mind. The man's brutal clan had travelled through their village one afternoon and he had pillaged their home when Maeve, Dermott and their father were off at the lake for a swim. The brute had stolen one of her mother's most prized possession-her sword-and her father had burned with a rage as hot as the fires from an angry forge. He had challenged the brutal invader to a duel, to reclaim his wife's beloved weapon, and he had won the fight with baffling speed, killing the tattoed giant in no more than thirty seconds by cleaving off his head with his axe. Maeve would never forget the scene. She had been twelve years old, and Dermott had been eight.
Growing up, she had always found it odd that her mother wasn't buried with her sword when she died, as was often customary in the North, but her father had told her that the sword itself was to be hers, right before he, too, perished from his fatal wounds the day Turok and Rumina attacked her poor little village. It was the legacy her mother had left behind for her to have, a token of her sweet memory to protect her through the hardships of life.
Maeve had carried that sword at her hip ever since she was eighteen years old, the ghost of her mother silently watching over her, but sadly, the storm had severed that precious connection five weeks ago. She could only hope the crew would take good care of it while she was gone, that someone would keep it sharp...
Her thoughts momentarily flicked to the Nomad, but Robin's words quickly brought her back to his office. "I take it you're from the North, then?"
Maeve blinked at him, surprised that he was able to identify her origins based on the customs she had vaguely described. "I am."
But then she quickly shrugged the whole subject away, disliking the unpleasant memories it was stirring inside her, like the cursed raid Rumina and her father had conducted on her village so many years ago, destroying her family by slaying her parents and dooming her brother to live the life of a hawk. She stubbornly shook the wicked memories aside and instead swiftly redirected the conversation down another path, jumping on the occasion to confront Robin on his glaring omission all morning about his rank in the army.
Crossing her arms on her chest as she casually walked back to the three-legged table with the blossoming orchids, as if needing to create an emotional wedge between herself and Robin, she stood tall and faced him fully. "So, General, is there anything else you failed to mention about yourself that I should know about?" She bit on his title on purpose, sinking her teeth into the pang of betrayal she had felt in the courtyard, then she crowned her inquiring question with the accusing quirk of an eyebrow.
From his slightly bent position over his desk where he was still intently searching for a specific document, Robin's hands stilled in their quest and his entire body stiffened, like a deer cornered by a wolf. He closed his eyes momentarily, well aware that he had no way out this time, then straightained up beind his desk before meeting her gaze sheepishly, a sad smile curving his lips. "I used to live in Erindale before moving down to Southampton," he began softly, his eyes gleaming with an apology for everything he had neglected to tell her about himself, shame and guilt etched in his brooding features while his fingers absently toyed with the corner of the paper he was holding. "I joined the army when I was fifteen, completed my training as a young lad mostly shy and solitary, and to my surprise, ten years later, the other soldiers somehow deemed me decent enough to select me as the General of the Southern Forces, a post that had just been vacated after the death of the previous officer." He shook his head regretfully as he seemed to recall the memory, and then something bittersweet laced itself in his husky voice as he continued. "I never wanted to be more than a simple solider...I never wanted any of this..." His blue eyes trailed around his study aimlessly, brushing on the bookcases and glassed caninets, his cluttered desk and the sheet of paper in his hand. "I only wanted to serve and protect...like my father." He quietly declared, a sullen look drawing his brow down for a moment, as if haunted by old ghosts, until he quickly drew in a breath and spoke again calmly. "Only problem is, here in Kalladrell, when someone is elected by the people's vote of confidence, let it be to represent them at the Council or serve as their leader in the army, they cannot back down or reject their election. I was left with no choice but to do my best to live up to everyone's expectations for the past ten years, the council and the army constantly surprising me with my re-election."
The silence in the room was heavy when he stopped talking, the walls almost closing in on them, and Maeve had a hard time finding her voice.
Saddened by his tale and by how unworthy he seemed to feel about the responsabilities that were repeatedly bestowed upon him, she poked at the subject hesitantly. "You make it sound as if the people are making a mistake by choosing you as their protector."
The sad smile returned to his lips. "I used to think so," he admitted with blank honesty, not even trying to deny it, then he dropped the piece of paper he was still clutching down on the numerous piles and circled around to the front of his desk to lean his back against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he fully faced her. "I didn't feel worthy of any of it. I still don't," he revealed boldly, sharing with her this small demon that lived within the depths of his core, feasting on his self-confidence. "When people look to you for protection, there's no room for mistake, no room for doubt, no room for fear, otherwise people get killed. Everyone expects me to protect them, and I'm simply terrified to fail them...terrified to lead them straight into harm's way."
Maeve swallowed hard at his words, simple words that rang with a truth sharp as steel and that resonated deep within her. She couldn't comprehend how the man standing before her, with such goodness, honour and courage in his veins could feel such doubt and fear over his own capabilities. She had seen him in action, either with words, a simple glare or with a sword in hand, and he was formidable, his mere presence immediately striking a sense of safety within anyone close by, first of all herself.
And yet she couldn't help but know exactly how he felt. Leadership was a heavy crown to wear, and she was glad her head was free of such a burden. Carrying Dermott's fate was more than enough as it was, her repeated failures to save him clawing at her insides everyday like a bitter poison. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to be responsable for the safety of an entire city like Robin was constantly chosen to do, but while he may feel utterly inadequate to the task, there was no doubt in her mind that he was perfectly suited for the job.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again, her voice soft and devoid of any accusation as she quietly appraised him, this stoic, brooding man who seemed humble to a fault.
"I didn't want to intimidate you," he admitted sheepishly, casting about to find the right words to say. "You had a lot to process this morning and I thought...I figured you could use a little bit of normalcy for a while, a normal friend to count on before being tossed into a bunch of strangers."
Maeve huffed a soundless laugh at his frank answer, a small smile stretching her lips while their gazes locked across the distance separating them. With the thick silence settling back in the room, although calm and light this time around, seconds ticked away in one of those arresting moment where there was nothing but a wordless understanding that passed between them, the previous cloud of betrayal slowly melting away.
"Thank you," she finally spoke, breaking the silence. "I suppose I do owe you for everything you did for me this morning, although..." The corner of her mouth curved into a smirk as she allowed herself to tease him, biting into his title again but playfully this time around, hoping to lift his usual brooding mood. "You should know, General, that in my past travels I've often been in the company of kings and queens. Trust me, it takes a lot to intmidate me."
Robin appraised her quietly, looking for a moment as if he was carefully storing this new piece of information about her into organized folders inside his head, then his lips stretched into a small smile that matched her own, with his blue eyes soft and warm like the sky after a storm. "I'll keep that in mind."