Robin let out a soft, contented sigh. She really wasn't troubled by the fact that they were stuck here for the next few days. She knew that Amon was concerned, but really, they attract more attention to themselves by traveling over Christmas. And Robin would admit that she was enjoying spending the holiday in her native Italy. The little village they were staying in was pretty traditional, and Robin took comfort from the familiar practices.
It had not been an easy time for either of them. Since escaping the factory, they had been on the move almost constantly. Amon didn't think anyone was looking for them yet, but he wanted their trail to be as difficult as possible when someone did start looking for them. Add to that the nightmares they both had from the experience, their as of yet unexplored feelings for one another, and all the other craziness that was their lives, things had been kind of tense and strained. In Robin's mind, they both needed a chance to just rest and be for a while. Christmas was giving them that opportunity.
They were staying in the village's only inn. The little Italian village was in a remote part of the Northeast, and Robin wasn't that worried about being found out here. Strangers were rare and treated with suspicion. The only reason they had been welcome was that Robin had been recognized as a native Italian. The townspeople had welcomed her and Amon though. And while they were under the impression that the pair was a married couple, other than that Robin had found their almost overbearing attention rather pleasant. With over a foot a snow on the ground, Robin spent most of her day snuggled up in blankets before the fire in the common room. All around her were the smells she associated with Christmas: cinnamon, bread, oranges, and chocolate. Even in the convent the smells of Christmas bread had invaded the air.
Amon was stretched out on the couch behind her, poring over maps and some guidebooks trying to figure out their next move. His presence was comforting. Robin had found she no longer felt safe unless he was in the same room as her. She wasn't quite sure when she had become so dependant on his presence, but at this point, it didn't matter. Besides, Amon had the tendency to become paranoid when she was out of his sight.
One of his hands reached down to stroke her hair. She'd been wearing it down lately.
"What are the figures of the blond on the donkey? She's not Mary since she doesn't look pregnant."
Robin laughed. "That's Santa Lucia. Her feast day is just before Christmas. She's the patron saint of the blind and is closely associated with light. She was born in Syracuse, so she's something of a big deal in Italy. She's also highly venerated in Scandinavian countries. According to Italian folklore, she travels on a flying donkey bringing gifts to good children around this time of year. In the Scandinavian countries, she's more associated with young women and light. Traditionally, there's some sort of sweet bread served on her feast day as well."
He seemed satisfied with her explanation and kept playing with her hair. Robin just leaned back against the couch and let him. There were still another few days before Christmas, but Amon's gift was safely tucked away in her bag. Robin hoped he would like it. Amon had done so much for her, and she wanted to try and show how thankful she was with the gift. But that didn't matter right now. Robin closed her eyes and let herself relax. Amon was here and she was safe. She was almost asleep when she heard him whisper.
"Rest well, my light."