(A/N)- Wasn't sure what to do with this prompt at first but I think this is decent enough.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Ha ha ha ha ha whyyyyyyyy did I make myself pull triple duty again this year? *cries*
RobStar Week 2020, Day 3 - Tamaran
Robin kicked the base of a column in frustration.
"Two lefts, under the veranda, and then straight on," he recited. "How did I mess that up?"
He took a moment to lean against the column, sighing, mashing a hand down his face.
He should have just accepted that escort.
The long halls of Tamaran's royal palace were silent, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space. Not even the guards were stationed down here—not that they'd help him anyway, Starfire had told him they took their roles very seriously and were not allowed to speak to outsiders—so there was no one about that Robin could ask for help after getting himself hopelessly turned around.
Suppose I should just keep moving then, he thought, straightening back up. He was bound to find something or someone eventually.
As he wandered, he did have to admire the palace's construction. It seemed Tamaranians loved their spaces tall and wide open, not surprising considering their flight powers. More than once he spotted a balcony or landing that seemed to have no visible entry point, high up in the rafters. The walls were polished to a marble-like sheen. Golds and reds abounded, in soft crunchy carpet underfoot, in tapestries draped along the walls, and in the beautifully carved stone.
Ducking through a smaller doorway Robin stopped, blinking to find himself outside. A neat, well-tended garden met his eyes. Vibrantly colored plants were arranged in winding patterns, following a little pebbled path past a bubbling fountain—tall tropical trees, wide-leafed purple ferns, and several species he couldn't identify. One of them sounded like it might be snoring.
He shook his head, chuckling a little to himself as Beast Boy's hysterical complaint about Tamaranian furniture from their last visit replayed from memory inside his head.
Thinking of that brought him to a pensive halt, under the shade of a willowy tree.
He'd almost lost Starfire back then. Not to danger, or death in combat, but to someone else. To her duty as princess of Tamaran. He'd begged her to run away with him. Pleaded with her not to sacrifice herself for Blackfire's selfish whims. He'd been so relieved to find out that Blackfire had faked the invasion, so determined not to see Starfire throw her happiness away for a lie.
On some level, he'd realized he loved her that trip.
He grinned to himself.
And now he was her official royal consort, along for the ride as she navigated a complex negotiation between Tamaran and a few of her outer colonies, which they had just finally been able to make contact with now that the war with the Gordanians was over. Beast Boy had fallen asleep in his chair more than once during the talks and Raven zoned out into meditative trances, but Robin had listened with rapt attention, finding the inner workings of Tamaranian politics incredibly fascinating.
He didn't always understand everything—the dignitaries and representatives often conversed in their mother tongue, leaving Starfire to whisper hasty translations in his ear that didn't always make sense or translate well—but he was keenly interested nonetheless, especially when Starfire stood up to speak, her lovely voice bending around the alien words with serenity and ease.
She looked almost more… in her element, in those moments.
His heart gave an irrational little sting. He shook it off. She wasn't leaving, he knew. She'd made it very clear that her abdication of the throne was permanent. But sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if she had regrets.
Lost in his thoughts, Robin didn't notice the pair of finely-dressed Tamaranian youths until they were stumbling over him.
Grunting, Robin tripped a few paces before recovering his balance. He shook himself, looking up at the pair of boys.
One had short-cropped reddish brown hair that clung close to his head in tight curls, sharp features, narrow eyes under furrowed brows, and was decked in a silver-white tunic with heavy jewelry on his arms and neck. The other was shorter and slightly pudgier, with shoulder-length wispy hair and wearing the standard Tamaranian purple, though it was embroidered with gold thread in fancy patterns.
"Sorry," Robin apologized, offering a smile and his hand. "Guess I shouldn't have been blocking the path."
The taller boy stared down at Robin's extended hand, then lifted his eyes with a even, impassive look.
Embarrassed, Robin put his hand back down.
"Um… you wouldn't happen to know how to get back up to the Council chamber would you?" he asked, hoping the boys knew enough English to help him.
"Why you?" the taller boy blurted.
Robin blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"
The shorter Tamaranian was looking uncomfortable now, tugging at his friend's arm.
"Zek'el, come on, let's just go," he begged, shooting distressed, apologetic glances at Robin. "You know your father told you not to insult the Princess's entourage."
The tall boy—'Zek'el', Robin could now name—shrugged off the hands pulling on him, glaring openly now. "No, I want to know," he said, pulling away from the shorter boy and taking a stalking step towards Robin. His green eyes flared. "Why did Princess Starfire choose you, a lowly Earther?"
He spat the word with as much venom as Val-Yor lobbing 'troq', and Robin immediately disliked the boy. He squared his shoulders, making himself as tall as he could (though his rival still had a good foot on him), fists tightening by his sides.
"Because she loves me, maybe?" he shot back in challenge.
Zek'el snorted.
"Absurd," he said. He crossed his arms, looking down his nose with haughty disdain. "Who could love you? A scrawny, flightless, Earthling commoner."
Robin's skin prickled, his hackles raising, but he resisted the urge to snap back or do anything… rash. The last thing he wanted was to cause some kind of intergalactic incident.
He inhaled slowly, then responded calmly, "Let's not sell me short." He gave a cheeky smirk. "I'm told I'm a rather likeable guy."
Zek'el wasn't impressed. "And she is Tamaran's princess. Noble from birth, destined to rule despite her—" He gave an aside glance, significantly. "—temporary leave of absence from the throne."
Something in Robin's chest snarled. He drew in a long breath through his teeth. His fingernails were beginning to make indentions on his palms.
The other boy was palming his face in his hands, shaking his head, as Zek'el pushed forward, encroaching on Robin's space, making the Boy Wonder have to tilt his head up to continue looking him in the face. (Which he found extraordinarily irritating.)
"In the Hezbron quadrant we are taught absolutely loyalty to the royal family. Any one of us would gladly fall on our swords for the princess," he bragged. He leveled a ice-cold glare at Robin. "You are not fit to be with her. You are not even fit to speak her name," he said stiffly.
If you think I wouldn't die for her in a heartbeat you're wrong, Robin wanted to say. But Zek'el had touched upon an old, deep-seated insecurity, tearing it open like a wound.
Starfire had been so patient with him. So understanding. And he'd ignored and denied how he felt for so long…
Robin's next steadying breath was a bit shakier, but he was still determined not to rise to the bait, not to let the words get to him.
"Look," he said quietly. His eyes dropped. "You don't have to tell me I don't deserve her. I know I don't. She's amazing and strong and beautiful and I'm an emotionally constipated stubborn mess. I'm the furthest thing from a Tamaranian you could get." He raised his head again, his fists gripping tightly. "But I've been trying my damn best to make her happy, and for whatever reason, she thinks I'm good enough. So maybe you should take your judgemental questions about our relationship up with her." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "She's the one that chose me," he pointed out.
That finally seemed to silence his critic. Zek'el stared back at him, expression unreadable.
Robin shifted, his boots scuffing the gravel. "Excuse me," he dismissed himself, stiffly.
He was preparing to leave when he heard a mutter from behind him.
"That's a pity. She must be dimmer than I thought."
With zero hesitation he whirled around and socked the other boy across the jaw.
-TT-
It took at least three guards to pry the boys apart, and by that time the ruckus had called down several dignitaries from the meeting, including Starfire, who quickly stepped in to do damage control.
"Tagg rak vosplurgal glorften krin!" she scolded into their midst. Taking hold of Robin's arm, she gently pulled him aside. "Are you injured?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he muttered. "Ask mister prissy pants how he's doing," he added in a grumble.
She shook her head, the silver diadem perched on her brows shifting slightly. "Robin…" she sighed in light aggravation. "You cannot go picking fights with the sons of Hezbron nobles. No matter how insulting they are."
Robin jabbed a finger at Zek'el indignantly. "He started it!" he cried.
Starfire glanced aside to where the boy was being furiously scolded by his father, harsh Tamaranian spitting in the air between them. "Be that as it may…" she said. "I do not wish to cause any unneccesary animosity between our factions."
Robin's hot anger deflated a little at that, at being even gently scolded by her. He dropped his gaze towards his toes.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Zek'el's pudgier friend piped up. "Uh… Your Highness?" he called. He held up a hand, to get her attention.
She turned to him. "Dag, Orvris?"
Orvris darted a pinched, embarrassed look towards Robin. "All respects, Zek'el did provoke the confrontation, my lady," he explained.
Starfire raised an eyebrow, swiveling to Robin.
"Oh?"
Robin's face was sour and he glared across the way at Zek'el.
"He called you dim. So I punched him in his stupid face," he explained in a flat growl.
"I see." Her tone was neutral, but there was no disguising the flicker of conflicting emotions in her eyes. Pride. Anger. Perhaps just a little bit of flattered excitement?
She straightened herself, assuming an air of refined royal composure.
"Dignitary Ghoblar," she called. "Perhaps you might teach your son not to insult his gracious hosts." She repeated her admonition in Tamaranian, earning a hasty apologetic reply, the older man nodding vigorously and swatting at his son's head with an irritated expression.
Beaming pleasantly, Starfire invited them to disperse. Or at least, that's what it sounded like to Robin.
He scuffed the dirt with his toes, fidgeting softly.
"Hey," he said. "I am sorry. I know how important these negotiations are to Tamaran's future and—"
She waved him off with a smile. "I am not angry."
"No?" he asked, beginning to relax.
"I think you are to be commended," she said, reaching for his hand. She squeezed it playfully. "For defending my honor," she teased with a wink.
Robin let himself give a cheeky smile. "Hey, these stiff upper lips can insult me all they want. But the minute they come after you," he told her seriously, "the gloves are off."
She laughed softly, entwining her fingers with his.
"Come," she said. "I have called a recess so that we may all cool off." A mischievous gleam was in her emerald eyes. "And I wish you and I to do the cooling off together," she said. She leaned in and purred her words in his ear. "In my bath," she whispered huskily.
Robin felt his brain slowly grinding to a halt and gulped nervously. Though Galfore had grown very fond of him, there were still many guards around the palace that grew twitchy whenever Robin showed too much physical affection towards their princess.
But he trusted that Starfire wouldn't let him get in trouble so he just replied with a stammering, "As—as you wish, Your Highness."
Starfire giggled, her long skirts lifting up as she floated, pulling Robin along behind her towards a high upper balcony far above.