Title: Letters to my Daughter
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Robin's backstory

Summary: Olvia wasn't able to be the mother Robin deserved, but that didn't stop her from writing letters

Author Question: Is there any way show a line strike through a word on fanfiction? I wanted to make it seem like there was some editing done to the letters, but when I transferred my document they disappeared. If someone knows a way PM me or something. Until then, I used brackets (ie, these things []) to show where I originally had the words struck out. It looks kind of dumb, but that's what you get when you have no strikethrough option.

Dearest Robin,

You came into the world last week.

I wish I knew a better way to start this letter, but I do not. I can scarcely believe it myself. Motherhood is not what I expected. I can already see your personality, the little idiosyncrasies that make you…you. You prefer to be held close to my chest rather in my lap. Before you start to cry your tiny little face will turn a bright red color.

You are perfect, not because you were within the normal parameters for length and weight, but reasons I cannot fully understand myself. I write this to remind the both of us of how special you are. I love you, Robin. I've loved you since before you were born. I will love you until the end of time.

You cannot understand just yet, but I think someday you will. Perhaps when you have children of your own you will know what you mean to me. I would do anything for you. I want you to live in a world better than the one that currently exists. I would do anything to keep you safe. We will have our disagreements (several have already warned me about 'the terrible twos'), but if there is any doubt of my love let me quell it now. You are and always will be the apple of my eye. Nothing could ever change that.

With greatest love,

Your Mother

Looking up from her writing, Olvia glanced to the other room where her husband held the baby. She couldn't keep a rapturous smile off of her lips. Olvia had meant every word. Robin was perfect in every way.

Everyone claimed that Robin looked exactly like Olvia had when she was a baby. Olvia couldn't see it, and a small part of her hoped Robin wouldn't take after her. She had made too many mistakes, held too many regrets. Few knew it, but Olvia had already experienced her fair share of heartache. The news of her pregnancy had come as a surprise, and even now she wasn't sure if she was ready to be responsible for another living being.

But when she looked at her daughter Olvia felt her insecurities fade away. Robin was hers, and always would be. The past was the past, and Olvia refused to let that stand in the way of her daughter's future.

Dear Robin,

I write this as an apology.

You are too young to understand. Since your father's death [at the hands of the World]

[Since your father passed, I have failed]

I am so sorry, Robin. There are a thousand excuses for my behavior, but they are just that. Excuses. What I plan to do is inexcusable. I can only ask for your forgiveness.

You are the smartest, most precocious child a mother could ask for. You have grown from a beautiful baby into a beautiful little girl. Everything from your beaming smile to the way you attempt to read your picture books is worthy of study. The professor claims he will make a scholar out of you in record time.

And yet I must abandon you.

I love more than the day you were born. You have done nothing wrong and remain my beloved child. But I am compelled to leave. As things stand, I cannot be the mother you deserve. The world is full of dangerous secrets, secrets that could bring about the end of the world as we know it.

I wish I could say I was exaggerating, but I write this with the utmost seriousness. You may think it to be insane, and in a way it is, but that makes it no less true. I cannot say anymore, lest I condemn you as well.

Oran has already agreed to take you in, and barring any objections from his [harpy of a] wife I will leave with the other archeologists in one weeks time.

One week. Hardly enough time to say goodbye.

I will not be gone forever. This expedition is slated to last two years, three at the most. In that time you will be well taken care of. Oran has promised to watch you like his own daughter, and Mizuira is your age. Hopefully the two of you can become good playmates. The professor says he will keep an eye out for you in the library as well. He claims it is inevitable that you come to visit. I think you are too young to remember all of the times I took you there, but Clover says the mind is a strange thing. I have to trust him on this. He is much more knowledgeable in the ways of children than I will ever be.

I'm rambling. There is so much left to do, and so very little time to do it. Once again, I beg your forgiveness. I will make up my failings to you when I return. Until then I must search for the [True History] truth.

With deepest regrets,

Your Mother

Olvia looked at the piece of parchment in her hand. She had to blink back tears to see it properly, and even then it seemed inadequate. She would have to revise it, of course. In her grief she had let too many things slip, things that could endanger her daughter.

On the floor Robin talked to herself, inventing some story as she played contently with her dolls. Any minute now she would look up and ask for her mother to join her, and Olvia would have to say no. She would be unhappy, but would not cry. Even at the age of two Robin seemed to understand that her mother was busy and couldn't always take time to indulge her.

Olvia stood and went to get a second piece of parchment. Someday Robin would understand. She had to.

Dear Robin,

Traveling is not like I expected. In the time since my last letter our little group has visited both Drum and Alabasta. It is one thing to read about a place, it is another thing entirely to experience it in person. I hope someday you will have the opportunity to travel. The world is vast, much grander than one island, or even one ocean.

It has been five years since I have seen you in person. I think of you every hour of every day, and I keep your baby picture close at hand. Even now I cannot believe that such a spectacular little girl came from a failure like me. It must be your father's side of the family that made you who you are.

Sometimes I wonder if you remember what I look like. It would probably be better if you don't.

I have made so many promises, and I have broken every single one. I will not be coming home. Somehow the World Government has discovered our mission. I am a wanted woman. For years they have been trying to tie groups like ours back to the Tree of Knowledge.

Learning history is not a crime, Robin. Let no one tell—

The marine searching the seized archeologist ship disregarded the rest of the letter, along with the dozens just like it. Finally, after hours of searching they found what they needed. They could stop this giant waste of time and get on with their lives. Too much effort had been wasted chasing after some loser group of criminals who didn't even know how to fight.

"Captain!" the marine shouted, "I think I've got all the evidence we need. This ship was sent by the Tree of Knowledge!"

"Someone bring me a den-den mushi. I need to call the Fleet Admiral."

Robin,

I know you have not received any of the letters I have written you. When I was on Ohara I hid them carefully away, certain that I would eventually return home and give them to you when the time was right. When it became evident that I would not be coming back I sent word to Professor Clover to give to you at his discretion or when you came of age, whichever came first. I never sent any of the letters I wrote on my journey, because there was too much risk. I don't doubt that those letters are now in Government hands. I do not think they could put you in danger, even knowing I would never send them I was careful with my words, but there were so many. I cannot remember what they all say. It seems even when I try to protect you I only succeed in putting you in harm's way.

You will not receive this letter either, I fear. I don't even know why I'm doing this, except I'm afraid that if I don't I will lose my mind. Even as I write I come ever closer to Ohara. I will not see you. I cannot see you. There is so very little I can do to protect you now, Robin. The walls are closing in, and after what happened to the thirty three other archeologists, I can now see that there is no escape, at least for me.

Maybe I will give this to the professor as well, to give you the explanation that you deserve. I can make no promises. It feels like I have broken every promise I have ever made. I fail to see how this would be any different.

I left to fulfill the dream your father died for. It consumed me past the point of obsession. I couldn't see the truth that was right in front of me. You are his legacy, not some lost civilization. As important as the True History is, it never should have been more important than my own flesh and blood.

Please know that I never stopped loving you. You were what fueled my dream all these years. The thought of you learning to read or making friends was what kept me going when the nights grew long and the seas rough. I told myself that it was all for you, my beloved daughter, that I pressed on. I wanted you to live in an era where truth was accepted and not hidden, where humanity could look at its darkest days and learn from them.

Somewhere along the line I began lying to myself, saying everything I did was in your best interests. I never should have left. That is my deepest regret. I was never the mother I should have been.

I can understand if you never forgive me. I will never forgive myself. A simple 'I'm sorry' sounds so pitiful, but it is all I can offer. You turned eight in February, and I know nothing about you. Your favorite color, foods you like, the sound of your laugh…

I was never there to bandage scraped knees or to listen to you play. I haven't read you a bedtime story since you were two years old. I don't even know what you look like.

I don't deserve your forgiveness.

In all likelihood I will never see you again. I wish I had done things differently, but all of the regret in the world will not change the past. I can only hope you grow into a strong, independent woman, confident in your abilities, whatever they may be.

In good conscience I cannot leave you any words of advice, but I can offer a warning. Don't make the same mistakes I have. Look at my example and do everything in your power to not become the person I was. Cling to those you love, because they are what is truly important. All the success in the world means nothing if there is no one to share it with.

Be strong, Robin. Life can be cruel, but don't allow yourself to become bitter. There are many marvelous things waiting to be found, but they are usually hidden. Seek the beautiful things. Look beyond the surface to the amazing wonders that lie beneath.

Don't be like me.

Sincerely,

Olvia

Olvia put her quill down and rubbed her eyes. She hadn't trusted herself to sleep for two days. It was foolish to write a letter that would never be read when the marines could attack at any time, but at the moment Olvia didn't care.

She would be at Ohara soon. Olvia took a deep breath to steady herself, then winced when the action pulled a sore muscle over her ribcage. A week in marine custody had left her worse for wear. She could feel herself weakening with each passing minute, and without the care of a doctor it was unlikely she would survive.

Carefully Olvia folded the never to be read epistle into thirds and wrote Robin's name on the outside. She had no envelope, or even wax to properly seal it, but she felt better for doing it. Writing to her daughter had been cathartic in a way. Now her mind was clear to focus on the mission at hand.

Her home was in danger. Her friends, colleagues, and teachers were all targets of the World Government. The future of the academic world rested on whether or not she could warn them in time. If the archeologists left the Tree of Knowledge would be lost to Government hands, but there would at least be a remnant left to continue the search for the True History.

Olvia couldn't be a mother. She had made that decision six years ago. It had been a terrible mistake, but the choice could not be unmade. Her research had to reach the future. If that meant abandoning her daughter again…so be it. She was already condemned.

Going to the deck Olvia squinted against the reflection of the water. In the distance she could see a tiny speck that was Ohara. Her home, which after all these years didn't feel like home anymore.

Steeling herself for what had to be done Olvia adjusted course, her letter to Robin left below deck. Maybe if there had been more time it could have been read by its intended recipient. Instead it lay unopened, forgotten in the rush to warn the archeologists of the incoming attack.

Dear Robin,

Olvia coughed as the smoke enveloped the Tree of Knowledge. The archeologists had done all they could. The blaze had spread to the point where it was impossible to throw books down into the lake. Soon the greatest library in history would fall and, if the Government had its way, its occupants forgotten. Leaning against one of the few bookcases that wasn't on fire, Olvia slid to the ground. She thought of her daughter, and for some reason her mind defaulted to the mode of communication she had used for years.

You have grown so big. I would have thought it impossible to learn the language of the poneglyphs at such a young age, but you have. I am so proud of you.

Beside her Professor Clover looked at the destruction that surrounded them. A single tear rolled down his cheek. More than the strangled cries and shouted curses of her colleagues, that made Olvia want to give in to despair. But even as she was about to die she couldn't give up hope. Ohara had fallen, but a small light lived on.

Be strong, Robin. The path that you travel will be a harsh one. Remember what you have been taught.

The floor began to tilt, pitching books and shelves dangerously. Olvia scrambled to her feet before she was crushed. It seemed paradoxical, but even as her fate was set in stone Olvia was determined to live as long as she could out of spite for the Government.

I'm sorry I can leave you no words as your mother. It's selfish of me to ask, but live your life to the fullest. I'm sorry I couldn't be the parent you needed. I have faith in your ability.

A loud cracking noise sounded over the roar of the fire. Olvia fell as the tree started to fall, landing awkwardly on her injured ribs. She slid across the burning hot floor, the world fading to black as she lost consciousness.

Live. Remember where you came from while striving to become the best you can be. I'm sorry it had to end this way.

Love,

Your Mother

AN: A reviewer asked me a long time ago for some Olvia/Robin stuff, and this is the closest I can come up with even though I find the relationship between these two to be very interesting. I don't know enough about two year olds to write believable interaction, lol.