I may take this down sometime and replace it with a more complete fic once I've seen the whole series. This was written at about one thirty in the morning, so if it only makes minimal sense, blame sleep deprivation, but I thought it was decent. It goes somewhere in between episodes fifteen and seventeen.
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever, Amen.
"You done?" Said a voice behind her, "I've been here for five minutes, waiting for you to finish."
"Yes." Robin said quietly, not looking at the lawyer, "I'm done." She rose from her kneeling position on the floor in her scant room, dusting her dress off. It was supposed to be her day off; and so she had dressed as she was used to. Nagira eyed her curiously. "Is there something to deliver?" she asked, easily meeting his gaze.
"Nah, but lunch is on and I wondered if you wanted anything."
"Oh. No, thank you." She said, sounding mildly surprised. She turned and sat against a pillar, already staring off into space.
"Suit yourself." Nagira said in his typically off handed way. He was about to walk out, but paused at the door. "Say Robin…"
She glanced up at him. "Yes?"
"Tell me, why do you still pray like that?" He asked, voice sounding distinctly acidic. Robin looked at him long before answering.
"Because I was raised that way." She said mildly. "At the convent, we prayed every day."
"Yeah, but you're out of the convent, that's for sure." Nagira said his voice only mildly suggestive.
Robin shrugged. "It's hard to let go of old habits."
"So that's all the prayer is to you? Habit?" he said incredulously. "You just say the words?"
"No." Robin answered immediately, but she gave no elaboration. Nagira had to stare at her for a minute before she realized that he wanted to hear more. Couldn't he just leave her in relative peace? She sighed, and continued. "I don't expect you to understand, but I still pray out of belief."
"Well you're right, I don't understand. After all," he said, shrugging, "that's the same religion that kills you and your kind."
Robin swallowed and answered carefully. "No it isn't. Those are people killing. They use religion, and God, as an excuse."
"Sure they do. But it's awfully convenient."
"If it wasn't that, it'd be something else." She said, resting her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes, thinking that the conversation was over, but she missed Nagira shaking her head.
"You sure you're not just brainwashed or something from living in a convent too long?" He asked off handedly, only half joking. He couldn't think of how she could find it in her heart to still pay her respects to her religion after she'd been hunted at the orders of a religious official.
"Yes. I'm sure." She said immediately. "Nagira," she started timidly, "I told you, I don't expect you to understand." When he raised an eyebrow and made a questioning noise, she sighed and embellished. "I believe; how could I not? It is one of the few things that have been constant. No matter what, God is always there."
"I dunno." Nagira said after a pause, rubbing the back of his neck. "Seems to me like he's deserted us. I haven't seen or felt hide nor hair of him since…well, never."
Robin smiled into her dress. "You've never gotten goose bumps from listening to a beautiful song, or watching someone do something great? You've never been in awe of the capability of human kind? The sheer enormity of what we do every day, good and bad?"
"Well, sure, but…"
"No. That's God; ever present in us, yet ever apart."
Nagira stared at her from his spot by the door, unabashed. She was what, fifteen? She spoke as if she'd been alive longer than he had. "Oh." He said, and then shrugged. "What ever." And he walked from the room.
Robin shook her head tiredly and ignored the man, settling back into her own thoughts.