The Choice

Townsmen with the shakes huddle around the glowing embers of what may have been a roaring fire. Speak quick, lest thee be to long in the open!

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Robin
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The Choice

Post by Robin »

** Took place Sunday night... just narration for those who are keeping up with this story line and may have been... lurking. **

After the trial of Atrum, and with nothing now to do but plan and wait, the folk of Haven began to settle back into the ebb and flow of their daily lives. They went back to their training, research, and political maneuvering. It was easy then, with Corbyn off and Varys on his way back to Woodhold, for Robin to slip away unnoticed most of the day. She had had just about as much of other people as she could take at the moment, and knew that if she didn’t get some time alone to get her thoughts and feelings in order, she would most certainly crack under the pressure of it all.

There was a perfect place, down by the new river, an outcropping of rock where she could sit and watch the endless passing of the river and find a measure of peace. Though she was still worried about the unnatural appearance of the river, to be near water once more, no matter how small, eased her heart in ways nothing else could. So, as the sun began to set, she silently left the hustle and commerce of the Lodge and made her unnoticed way to that spot to watch the stars bring born in the night’s sky.

The former Naval officer sighed deeply. Though she knew that she had done the right thing, in taking on the sacrifice herself and not permitting those under her command to suffer, and though Corbyn had said that he too would have done the same thing in her place, she still could not help but feel this aching in the well of her soul. Unto what abyss had she commended the spirit of her sweet babe? Should she really have let Don Mayo be the one to strike the deal with the entity they now suspected to be Narnian? Those questions and a hundred more filled her thoughts as the evening gave way to true night, and still she sat there huddled up in the cloak Corbyn had given her, thinking of him with longing , that he might return with haste to her side that she might not have to bear this alone.

And she was alone. Though all the town might do what it could to help her, she alone felt the life within her; she alone would be the one to give birth. She alone would have to make that terrible choice. She accepted this as she did most things in her life, as part of what was required to serve the greater good of the world, and to see the dreams of peace and prosperity she and Corbyn held so dear come to pass. Still, Robin felt as if she had been put to an emotional keel hauling. First the news that she was with child, a surprise to be sure. Then to face giving up that life, the heir of her one true love. And on top of that, to learn once more that in sooth the child was not gone, but now growing once more within her. All in the span of but 10 hours. That would have broken anyone, even the strongest of souls. Robin, however, was unique. Perhaps it was the strength of her love for her husband to be. Perhaps it was the military way of her entire life, and then again it may just have been that she was too tired to do else. But Robin did not break. She thought, and pondered, but she did not break.

She had told Donovan that if, in sooth, the child was born imbued with the essence of the dark Necromancer, she would kill it herself if need be, and she meant it. If the essence of her babe was gone, then she would feel no guilt, for thought the physical vessel was of her and Corbyn’s creation, the life within was not. Thus, she would feel no guilt. She had resigned herself to this path, fearing that there was no other way. Her mother’s heart cried out to her, however, as she sat there in the dark of the night under the soft light of the stars. What if the child wasn’t truly gone? What if there were some small spark left that the Dark One had merely submerged, not destroyed? Could she take that risk… could she really kill the babe with that thought ever in her mind from that day hence for all the rest of her life? Could she truly bear it?

A lone tear traced its silent way down her cheek, the first she had cried since she had struck that terrible bargain. She could not help it, she felt so small and alone in the face of such impossible choices. She truly had no idea what it was she was carrying… or what it would do to her in the process as it grew. The birth itself might kill her. Perhaps the evil seed within would corrupt her and turn her too against those she loved most. She did not know, and the not knowing was almost too much for one soul to bear.

A wave of despair threatened to consume her, as her worst fears played themselves out in her head over and over. Great sobs began to wrack her slender frame until she was gasping for breath. She stood up and looked out over the deep and cold river as her tears fell. She could just throw herself into it and make it all go away, end Narnian and herself, stop this darkness before it ever had a chance to begin. No more sorrow, no more impossible choices. Just sweet sleep in the deep cold water. Corbyn was an elf; he would move on and find someone else, perhaps one more worthy, one of his own kind. She took a step closer, feeling the cold night wind at her back and hearing the roar of blood in her ears combined with the rush of icy water below.

One more step… just one more step…

She felt something cold on her skin, and looked down, to see the light of the stars illuminate the necklace she wore about her neck. The rose entwined blade of her betrothal to Corbyn, the twin of which rested about his neck also in this same moment. He had fought so hard for her, to deliver her out of darkness. He had given so much for her, to her, and because of her. He had never given up; even when she had told him it was hopeless. Corbyn, whom she loved more even than her own life, who was the wholeness of her being. He had never given up.

Robin closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and tried with all her heart to still the chaos and fire within. She thought about Corbyn, envisioned his sweet face and the kindness in his eyes when they two were alone. She took to heart all his elven grace, that she might find an answer. And she did.

A soft, and somehow exceedingly dark, smile crossed her pale tear streaked face as she opened her eyes to look up at the stars in the heavens.

She would fight fire with fire. Narnian was a Necromancer of the old world, of magic divided. Magic was one once more, and so he would have to face the same challenges as the rest of them. She would dedicate every waking moment from here on to the study of magic, giving up everything she was for that arcane and empathic knowledge. She would learn everything there was to know about essence, that she might combat the evil she was to bring into the world. She would not give up on the life of her child, no, not ever. She would fight, and she would use Narnian’s own power against him. Magic would meet magic, and she would call back the soul of her child. She would destroy the Dark One, as he sought to destroy others. She would make him rue the day he had thought her a weak woman.

Robin laughed darkly, a kind of fell passion consuming her. You have Eight and a half months, Dark One, and then I will send you to pits so dark you will pray for the quiet of the Pit of Creation. For every moment of pain you have brought me and those I love, I will return it unto you a thousand fold.

She took a deep breath and stood tall, heading back up to the Lodge. She needed to see Ug, for she had a great deal of work ahead of her.
"Is misery made beautiful, right before our eyes?
Will mercy be revealed, or blind us where we stand?"
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