Hello, freaks, and welcome to my new one-shot.
Now, to the matter at hand. A nothific, observational and rather pointless, really---but I rather liked it, and enjoyed writing it. As you may have gathered, it's RobStar. No, I haven't switched sides; this is just what Muse decided must be written. Besides it gave me a chance to explore the RobStar relationship a bit, and I'm certain this exercise will improve my characterization of her in Gotham at Daybreak.
Pretty canon; age changes throughout the fic, but I'm thinking 14, 15 is the starting line. Um…okay, that's it. Go read.
He loved many women in his life.
Love came easily to him; all kinds of love. Relationships were trouble, but love… How easy it was to fall in love, to plunge into it with no deep breath, to dive and complete loose sight of the surface, to soak in it, to let it impregnate his every cell with tragic, utmost blindness.
He wished it weren't so. He wanted his head clear and his heart solid, but it wasn't his choice. Even after lovers or friends or whatever they'd been were long gone, they kept their place in his heart. He kept loving even those that hurt and deceived him. He sent them away, yet loved them all the same.
Starfire. Golden, graceful Starfire. How he loved her, even now.
He remembered meeting her. He'd lost his breath in her wildfire hair and himself in her unexpected kiss. To learn the language, supposedly. But he'd been young then, maybe fifteen, and it'd been his first real kiss---and he'd had an audience to torture him, and forever after that. One way or the other, he never forgot it, though it would be two years before he tasted her zesty lips again.
It might've happened sooner had he made a move earlier. But it seemed there was always something more important than her on his mind---the team, Slade, Gotham, enemies, civilians. But she was always there nevertheless, fidgeting on the back of her mind and making him awkward and uncomfortable. The time came when the rest of his obsessions toned down and Starfire overthrew them with the strength she had gathered from sitting in his mind for so long. She became the objective, albeit one that he refused to pursue.
Complications seemed to arise from everything. Of course, there was the obvious rejection worry, but he overcame that quickly; the Tamarian's affections for him were painfully plain. More heavily on his mind weighed the many implications his getting together with Starfire would mean to the team. First off, the team dynamics might be compromised—if he had a favorite, so to speak, he would be in danger of loosing sight of his leadership responsibilities to the rest of the team. The opposite was also true---if it didn't work out, could he be certain that he would continue to treat her as a teammate and equal? Or would rancor hold him? And even if he overcame it, would she? Doubts crowded his brain, fighting for attention against the many warnings his mentor had issued over the years. Love and crime-fighting don't mix.
And all the while, she only grew more beautiful.
And bold.
Resisting her advances was truly a test of conviction; his senses were on permanent overload from the subtle sensuality that exuded from her. The little things drove him crazy; the way she'd delicately brush against him when passing him in a hall, or the way she'd close her eyes and bite her lower lip before complimenting him on the succulence of his cooking. He specially noticed how, whenever she was tired, she would roll her head back and expose her elegant neck, as if daring him to bite down on it.
Sometimes, he missed the naive girl he'd always adored but considered off-bounds. Slowly, he realized she didn't exist anymore. Her time on Earth had changed her---if she'd ever been that innocent in the first place, that is. Or maybe it wasn't her stay here; the rest of the Titans had all drastically… evolved in the course of two years. It only follows that so would she.
He wondered if he'd changed, too, because suddenly all those inconveniences didn't seem too important and Batman's voice was beginning to fade. It was almost gone the night she came to him and asked him to choose once and for all---now, or never.
"What will it be, Robin?"
She had had to leave without an answer. Whether she took it as a 'never' he didn't know. But if she had then Star had lied in her ultimatum, because she waited for him still---even if only for the two hours it took him to make up his mind. Robin realized he'd been waiting for a catastrophe, something unnatural to push him into realizing that any risks were worth it if it meant that he could taste those otherworldly lips again---and he realized that the two years he'd wasted in denial were all the tragedy he needed.
Now.
Kissing her again---oh, it was like dying. Like free-falling through the sky and not caring that you're heading straight for the ground. Such a rush it brought him, the taste of apricots from her mouth and the feeling of her body pressed inch to inch against his. Such power, too, an incredible sense of invincibility brought on by the way his arms crushed her and knowing that he could hold on forever, that he need not let go.
The change in him was astounding. He felt free for the first time in many years. At first, he couldn't understand it. He'd always though he was happy…but clearly he had been wrong. Either that or he was experiencing a completely new state of being, one that he struggled to comprehend until he realized living it was much better than understanding it.
Starfire told him it was love.
Love? He had loved her when they were only friends, but he knew that wasn't the type of love she talked of. Was that what it was? How could he know? He had nothing to compare it too; he had never loved before. Not in the way she meant, anyway.
Had it really been love that drew him to her? Robin always thought it was lust, coupled with friendly caring, pulling him. But now…Love, huh? What was love anyway? Was it craving her touch almost to the brink of insanity? Was it seeing her face even with closed eyes? Getting lost in the river of her voice even after she'd stopped talking?
Or was it lying beside her, feeling her breath on his neck and wishing he could die, because surely the rest of his life couldn't compare to that single, perfect moment?
Months passed. Then years. Still, he loved her and she loved him. The strength of it was overwhelming sometimes, frightening even---specially when it crept into his nightmares and he saw her dead on the asphalt. Or when they fought and split, and his heart twisted and shook as if trying to leave his chest and crawl into hers instead, so that their separations never lasted more than a week or two.
They shared a room a by then, and Robin thought they shared a future for sure. So did Starfire, he knew. They would've married in less than a year. But then she left, and didn't come back. It tore him apart, especially because he knew she'd chosen to leave. She'd had her home planet on one hand, and him in the other----and Tamaran had won. He'd come second.
For the first time, he understood, Love and crime-fighting don't mix. They don't, simply because love can never come first---had ever come first. It just had been easier to oversee that because both he and Star shared the responsibility of Jump City, so there were little let downs between them when pursuing that priority. But now that her planet was without a ruler and civil war ravaged its people, Star had to make the same choice he would've made in her position. The people. Her duty.
Come with me, she'd told him through tears, begged in whispers. Come with me. He wished he could've said yes. It would've been so easy to do so, to nod and continue to hold her for the rest of their lives. But he said no, and knew it was the right answer—he couldn't leave for the same reason she couldn't stay. Duty. Honor. He had responsibilities here—to Jump City, to Batman, and most importantly, to the rest of the Titans. Responsibilities he had been born for, he knew, and which he could never, would never give up.
Their last night was spent trying to make up for the life they should've had together; it was a useless effort---how can one cram a lifetime worth of loving, fighting, crying, lovemaking, laughing, talking, kissing, being in a single night? Impossible. For the first time, Robin had the urge to memorize every inch of her---her every breath, even. Never before had he felt a similar impulse; he'd always loved passionately, but leisurely, knowing he had the rest of his life to know her and all the time in the world to pleasure her. But that night, sex was a violent occurrence on both sides. Possess. Own. Keep. Robin felt himself swept off in a whirlwind of Starfire, until it downed on him: this wasn't how he wanted to say goodbye: rushing desperately, blindly. So he stopped and made love to her the way he would have any other night---thoroughly, fervently, like it was the first time instead of the last.
She was simply too beautiful, and maybe he felt a little relieved that she was leaving---now he was free to always remember her as she was that night: young, immortal, perennial. She'd never extinguish, she'd never wither.
It might be superficial of him, but her ravishing beauty held the closest grip in his heart. He loved her for her compassion, her courage, her genuine kindness and quiet strength----but her spellbinding eyes and plump lips, her graceful hands and delicate ankles… her perfect breasts and her voice like a sparrow's… her butterfly-wing skin, the scent of dew and flowers in her hair, her elegant feet and small, pink nails… her curiously deep navel, her long lean legs, and the extraordinary curve of her hips… and, of course, her breath-taking wildfire hair. It was like her looks were the embodiment of her nature; she looked to be exactly as she was: bewitching, generous, loyal, sensual, loving----unwittingly perfect in every way, he realized, kissing her for the very last time.
At dawn, she had to leave. She had begged him the night before to stay on the bed, to pretend sleep---she said she'd never make it through if she knew he was watching her leave. So he stared at the wall and tried not to picture her moving around the room, gathering last-minute stuff. He tried to ignore the sound of muffled crying, the swish of the door as it slid open, her tiptoeing footsteps fading away into the silence of the sleeping tower.
She was gone. He sat up on the bed, too empty to cry. Their room seemed mostly unchanged, but he knew it was merely a façade. Her drawers were empty. Her toothbrush was gone. She'd left behind nothing save her scent, which lingered on the pillows like crushed peonies.
And Robin---she left him, too.
He'd never felt as alone as he had then, bare and broken, holding his head in his hands and waiting for the tears to come. He heard the door swish open, but didn't care to look up. The bed sank slightly, and Robin felt himself wrapped in cool arms. They delicately pulled him close and he nearly cried then, pressed against the soft, ivory skin. Another hand rested on his shoulder, this one larger, coarser. Behind him, he sensed the chill of metal.
Starfire was gone. She would never come back. And if she would, it'd be too late. He would have changed, and so would her. He was changed, even now---and it was Starfire's doing. He was still free, even without her---still alive, still complete. They'd had now, and it would have to be enough because even though it killed him, he knew there'd be no more.
But he'd love again. She wouldn't be Starfire. Her hair wouldn't be like July sunsets, her skin not like unpolished satin. She probably wouldn't taste like apricots, either. But as long as he could remember that tangy sweetness, the feel of her arms and her surreal body, he would be okay. As long as he could close his eyes and hear her voice in his ears, as long as he knew the scent of crushed blossoms---he'd be okay. As long as he remembered and smiled still; he'd be okay.
Yes, he'd love many women in his life. But at the beginning, there was Starfire---and at the end, she remained.
Dearest Robin,
I arrived in Tamaran three days ago. Though I will no doubt write you countless letters, this is the only one I will ever send to you, my most precious friend. I only desired to let you and our friends know that I had concluded my voyage in safety, and am now amongst my people.
I had forgotten how lovely Tamaran is, even in war—though the glorious landscape is lost to me when your dear face crosses my mind.
I know you understand why I have chosen to limit my communication with you. The impossibility of our situation would only sadden us further, and it is unhealthy to linger in what is irrevocably lost. No, it is better for both of us to progress in our lives completely free of any responsibilities to each other.
These words hurt me in a manner I knew not words could.
For the last time, know I love you more than I do myself. Robin, you will always remain in my heart as my dearest, most trusted friend. The years we spent as lovers are the best as I have known. I shall never forget your kiss, though I sometimes suspect I should.
Thank you for giving yourself to me; I hold your memory closest, and already it drives me to strengths I never suspected I possessed. You made me a better being than I had potential for---and for that, I am eternally grateful.
Tell Raven I shall continue to practice our meditations, and that I will think of her when I do. Tell Beast Boy I have shared his jokes with my people and they are as puzzled as I once was. Tell Cyborg that I have taken his counsel to heart, and it has already bettered the situation of my people.
And tell Robin---tell Robin I would not mind if he would think of me fondly every once in a while. Goodbye.
With all the love I posses,
Star
Red Notes:
So…this isn't chapter 4 of Gotham at Daybreak. Obviously. I'm terribly sorry it's taking so long, but I'm kind of going through a dry spell, as far as my writing abilities go, concerning that story. Nevertheless, I am confident a new chapter will be posted sometime this week.
So, whatcha think? Yeah, it's cliché---but occassional sapis good for the heart.Besides, their clichés for a reason: they make the heart go boom-boom. See what I just did? I used a clichéd to justify the use of clichés. Ain't it fun? And to any RobinRaven shippers that might have stuck through the ending, I couldn't resist you-know-what.
The scene in bed after she leaves—that's the rest of the Titans with him, in case it was to shady.
I hope Robin didn't seem too superficial, what with all the mentioning of Star's looks---I'm just trying to make a point here: she's beautiful, and it's okay. He loves her for it, just like he loves her for everything else. It's not that shallow—--I just didn't want to fall into the whole 'beauty's not important' thing. With Starfire, it has to be---she's too beautiful to be ignored. Of course there's more to her, and Robin knows and cherishes, that…but her beauty is overwhelming.
The language-kiss thing: I'm not sure if that was featured on the show or not. Just in case, here's the thing: Starfire learns English by kissing Robin the first time they meet. I think it's weird, but cute and quite not subtle.
That's it. As always, all comments and reviews are cherished. Don't hesitate on the button. And stick around for the soon-available chapter 4 of GaD.
--Fée