Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Raven awoke to warm flesh and a heartbeat that wasn't his, just as he so often did travelling with the carnival. It wasn't rare for him to awaken with a visitor or two in his trailer. It wasn't rare for the visitor to still be asleep, either, unaccustomed to the late, colourful nights that came with the life of a performer.

It was, however, rare for the same person to be there so many nights in a row, seeking the ringmaster out after every performance since the carnival's opening night in that city. It was rare for the visitor to make such an impression on Raven that he was even considering doing what he was about to do… But there was something different about the man. Something interesting, in the way he arrived night after night with a ticket in his hand, sitting in as dark a corner as he could find in the tent, yet clapping the hardest.

Lloyd was an odd one, and as much as Raven would have liked to stay, find out more about the man than could be discovered from brief, whispered conversations in the dark or flirtatious remarks in the light of the carnival excitement, it was the circus's last day here. He wouldn't be surprised if the others had already started packing up, anticipating their departure.

He sat himself up, reaching over to gently tap on the man's shoulder, and Lloyd’s eyes sleepily drifted open. He muttered something, something that Raven couldn’t quite hear, before laying his head down once more.

“Sorry, dearie.” Raven said, his voice almost as quiet as Lloyd’s mumbling. “We’re leaving soon, and I wanted to talk to you before we do.”

That seemed to catch the man’s attention. “You’re going?” He asked, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

“Travelling carnival, remember? We were never going to stay forever.”

“...Oh.” Lloyd said, moving to sit upwards just like Raven was, even through his downcast expression.

“Mhm.” Raven hummed, drawing closer to Lloyd. With soft, practised hands, he slowly reached to the collar of the man’s shirt, retying one of the buttons Lloyd had neglected to the night before. Raven would have- should have offered him nightclothes, all things considered, but their minds had been much too enthusiastic for rational thought.

“Will you be returning?” Lloyd asked, and Raven could see through the carefully unbothered tone Lloyd had put on.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Depends which direction the wind blows.” He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Lloyd’s cheek. “Which is why I brought you something, if you’re willing to take it.”

Lloyd perked up at the words, and Raven took it as a good sign. He pulled himself off of the bed, scanning for where he had discarded his jacket the night before, before reaching to take a small thing out of his jacket pocket, passing it to Lloyd.

“A… stick of wax?”

“A candle - A magic candle.” He added, seeing Lloyd’s confused expression. "It'll let you talk to the carnival." He didn’t want to admit that his resolve was cracking slightly. He wasn’t usually nervous like this while playing the Raven character, but with this odd, fascinating man… He wouldn’t normally be doing a lot of things. He wouldn’t normally sit, leaning his head on someone’s shoulder while he explained how to use the object. He wouldn’t normally want to keep contact with anyone he met in the carnival’s travels, save for a few exceptions, and Lloyd had certainly proved himself to be one of such exceptions.

With a soft kiss while cupping his cheek, Raven had bade the man goodbye, trying to ignore the pulling in his chest that still yearned for his odd fascination.

Towns always seemed alight with excitement when the circus drew near, setting up where they could find an empty plane that was big enough. Children would beg and plead with their parents for a caramel apple, or a stick of candyfloss, or a front row ticket to the ring in the big tent. Teens would act uninterested, which turned to poorly disguised looks of awe when performances started, sparks of creativity and inspiration that they tried so desperately to hide from their peers.

The atmosphere still hadn't dissipated as they were packing up, and Raven didn't think he'd ever grow tired of the way the carnival freed its guests, if only for a night. They left behind a wake of quiet contentment. The calm, happy remnants of excitement after an earth-shaking event - despite all that transpired having taken place in the confines of one plot of land, in tents that looked way smaller from the outside than within.

Raven was broken from his thoughts, and almost knocked off of his feet, when a small shape came barrelling into him, gripping his sleeve with the strength of a girl who was not yet quite aware of how much she had grown in the last few years.

"Pa!" Son Mi excitedly said, tugging his sleeve to draw his attention fully, undoubtedly, on her. It was fair - more than fair, he supposed. He hadn't stopped to talk to anyone after the show last night, in his eagerness to pull Lloyd back into the tent. In his defence, Son had already expressed, with childlike stubbornness, her insistence on how she was definitely, absolutely spending the night with her "Aunty Jill and Marjo" and he was positive she hadn't actually missed him. Still, the ways of a preteen girl eluded Raven. "Do you want to see what Aunty Jill taught me? Please?" She said, as the tugging on his arm grew more insistent.

"And I'm sure you know the rules that Jill also taught you about practising magic." Raven said, his hand being batted away from ruffling Son's hair, as Son rolled her eyes.

"I won't let anyone see-"

"Inside, kid." Raven said. Son huffed, but turned away nonetheless, practically bounding to where most of the crew were busy dismantling the tents and stalls. She dodged and weaved between them, so much so that Raven struggled to keep up, until finally approaching a familiar witch, who was busy helping Marjolein pack a pile of boxes away into their trailer. They often needed all the space they could get on the days they travelled, and Jill’s magic certainly made it a lot easier to fit several things into one small space.

Son almost knocked poor Marjolein off of her feet, causing the woman to grasp to readjust the box she was holding as the girl ran past them. Raven met Jill’s eye, before the pair cautiously followed Son into the trailer. The girl sat, picking a stone from a pocket on her dress, and gently tossed it into the air, where it stayed, motionless, for a few seconds, before dropping back into her open palm. She giggled as Raven raised an eyebrow at Jill, who shrugged.

‘Your daughter can be very insistent.” She said, and Son grinned, slightly sheepishly.

“But it’s cool though, isn’t it pa?” Son insistently said. “It floats! I could levitate things soon, too. Maybe tonight she can teach me-”

“Tonight, you’re going back to your own bed.” Marjolein said from the doorway. “I think your aunts need some peace and quiet.” She gave a pointed look to Raven. “After the last. Few. Nights.”

Ah. So she had been here for a while.

Most of the carnival had a soft spot for the child, and it was far from rare for her to be cared for by the rest of them while Raven was busy with shows or management of the circus or… other things after the show that took up his time. Elysium, he knew she counted Michael as a second father at this point, and he was glad she had so many people to look out for her, when he knew he was far from the best parent. There was a reason he had named Michael her godfather, after all.

“But pa won’t help me get better at magic!” She countered. “His magic isn’t as interesting as-” Raven gasped in exaggerated annoyance.

“I’ll have you know, young lady, fae magic is a lot more interesting than witch magic.”

"Prove it." She dared, moving to walk out of the trailer with Raven, following him away.

"Once you've helped us pack up."

"But paaa-" Son started. "Jill's going to teach me-"

"If you want to learn things so badly, Asha always loves having tea with her favourite niece."

"But she teaches boring-"

"Reading and maths are far from boring. And I know you like history-"

Their voices trailed off, as Marjolein cast a look at Jill, her eyebrow raised as she picked another box from the small pile.

"You spoil that kid." She said, a smile on her lips. Jill took the box, and casting a cautionary glance out the open door, just in case, muttered something that made it shrink to the size of a matchbox.

"There's a reason why I'm her favourite aunt, Marjo."

Chapter Text

The letter was written with a handwriting that curled, intricate pen strokes that ran up and back to create cursive that looked more like art than a written letter, yet was still perfectly legible to Lloyd's early morning bleariness. He had awoken to it on his nightstand, as if it had fallen onto it in the night, mismatched from the carefully set order of things. He didn't know what he had expected from letters that puffed out of a candle like smoke on an unlit flame, but it wasn't crumpled, or ashen, or still alight with smouldering sparks. It was as if it had come in the mail, carefully packaged and folded in an envelope with a wax seal.

Part of him had believed the candle to be a trick; A final remnant of the fantastical carnival, there to give him hope, or a way to write his hopes and burn them to gain closure, but this didn't seem… He picked the candle up, and rotating it in his hands, found nothing but smooth wax, even as he readjusted his glasses and held it closer to his face to get a better look. How did it work? Raven had claimed it to be magic, and yet, claimed every act in the carnival to be magic. It was some clever stage effect, it had to be. Or some technology.

Begrudgingly, he took a fountain pen from his desk, and dipped it in the ink pot. Even if this was a stage effect, there was no harm in writing a letter back, just to be sure.

His handwriting didn't flow the same way Raven's did. It had the neat, slightly slanted cursive he had been taught for so long, replicated in every class at school for fear of his work looking sloppy without it. He folded the letter, trying to recall what the ringmaster had said, hoping nothing had been lost or confused in the sea of memories he had from the carnival.

Carefully, he lit the candle, holding the letter over it, folded so many times he was certain it would look almost crumpled when it was unfurled. As soon as the dancing flame hit the paper, it glowed, showering his room in a bright light. Reflexively, he pulled his hand away, and the light died down, going from what he was sure was purple to the warm orange glow of regular embers. On inspection of his hand, it was unharmed, although he was sure he had seen the light engulf it. It had certainly burned the letter.

He blew out the candle, and the smoke that curled upwards from it almost reminded him of the acrobats that had danced in the air.

Raven had chuckled slightly as he saw Lloyd's questions, before putting his pen to paper once again, causing Son to glance up from her book for a moment at the noise. There was little to do while the trailers were travelling: The horses they used to pull them were simply illusions, after all, that didn't need tending or rests. It was an efficient means of transport, one that didn't raise suspicion, most of the time.

Lloyd frowned as he read the letter. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but he really shouldn't be surprised at the ringmaster's stubborn insistence. A magician never reveals their secrets, after all.

He hadn't been expecting one back so quickly, and yet, the fanciful scrawl of Raven's hand still looked like intricately written artwork. Part of him wanted to study it, read his words again and again, imagine him whispering it into his ear, like he had whispered so many sweet things into it in their nights together.

He tried to ignore the shivers in his spine.

Lloyd buried his head in his hands, despite no one else being there to witness the way his cheeks looked more like a tomato than anything else. He shouldn't have expected anything less, really. The ringmaster had swept him off of his feet then, why did he think his words on paper would have a different effect?

Raven keeps having that effect on him. Again and again. Letter after letter. Playful goodbye after playful reply, and Lloyd struggles to articulate the words to respond to him at all, let alone in kind.

He can't quite tell when the letters start to get more personal, enquiring into each other's lives after days - weeks of back and forth.

He wasn't sure when the teasing flirtations turned to expressions of care like that, either. When the excitement in his chest at the sight of another letter turned to butterflies that threatened to fly out of his mouth if he didn't write them into the notes. When he started staying up late into the night to keep conversation going with the man, letting his tired mind dream of him in his sleep.

What he did, however, know, is that the wax on the candle was beginning to melt down.

Chapter Text

Lloyd awoke from his sleep as the feeling of Raven's soft lips on his own dissipated, to see nothing but the empty room around him, feel the cold tint of the side of the bed that it seemed Raven had been laying on, just a moment before. He bit down his frustration. Ridiculous dreams. Ridiculous feelings. Ridiculous candle that had slowly but surely been burning down the last few weeks, yet still left delightfully intricate notes on his bedside table that made Lloyd's stomach seem to fill with butterflies.

The pillow was soft, when he buried his face into it, trying to will himself back to sleep, but the petty anger had awoken him too much for the task to avail.

He missed Raven. There, he admitted it. It had only been a week that the circus had been there, but he missed the week that was spent in the warm embrace of the ringmaster, the thrillful nights with the other man that had turned slightly tipsy flirtation into sober dedication to savour every moment. He missed the moments they had gotten to actually talk, away from the bustle of the rest of the attendees staying after the show - the rest of the attendees didn't have the ringmaster's rapt attention, after all. The smile Raven gave him that seemed to shine through the makeup wasn't a smile he gave them.

Or maybe it was. Maybe he really was that great at keeping the show going.

But something in him doubted it.

He couldn't focus on his work, like this. He hadn't been able to ever since the circus had left, and yet, it had only grown worse in recent weeks. He needed a break. Maybe it had been a little impulsive to book time off work, pack some of his belongings in a bag, and buy a ticket at the closest train station for a city that he barely knew, but he was an adult. He could be impulsive. He had the money for it, the safety, and the means to get back. He just needed a break. Something to get his mind away from the tantalising purple eyes of the ringmaster.

It hadn't been a trick of the light, he knew that. They had been in too many different lightings together, he had stared into those eyes too often. He'd expressed concern, once. Asking if he needed to take whatever-it-was changing his eye colour off along with his makeup before he went to sleep, but all that had done was make sure that Lloyd awoke with makeup smudged all over his shoulder and the pillows.

Yet, human eyes should not be purple.

The train was busy when he entered, but he found himself a seat next to a window, staring out of it and letting himself enjoy the novelty of a railway. It was almost like a different type of magic - not that the circus's magic was anything but tricks, of course - but then, was the train not something he knew to have an explanation? Magic was something he couldn't understand, and when the logic was finally uncovered, it wouldn't be magic anymore. Magic was seeing the countryside race last him in a blur of greens and browns, not the gears and track that roared beneath him.

He was lost in thought as the train arrived at the next station, and a woman took the seat next to him. Still staring out the window, he saw the woman sit her bag on her lap, out of the corner of his eye in the reflection. He paid it little mind until something caught his eye, making him turn around to double check it wasn't his brain simply yearning for any sort of sign.

But it wasn't his yearning brain. There, jutting out of a side pocket on her bag, was a flyer. Folded tightly on purple, patterned paper, was the same curled cursive he had bored into his brain from reading the letters over and over again. There was an illustration, too. A circus tent, with stylised performers. Simple, as if it could belong to any circus troupe, printed and distributed to the public without care, yet as precise and intensive as the letters Lloyd had been written. Each pen stroke was perfect, so much so that it had to have been heavily practised and redone, yet looked as natural as roots growing from a plant, weaving and twirling through each other without a care in the world.

The woman must have caught him staring, for when he finally tore his gaze away, she was looking at him; staring at him with an odd look of curiosity, almost like a cat regarding a fellow animal, unsure whether the other creature was friend, dinner, or something to run from.

“Have you ever been to the circus?” He couldn’t help but ask, when she started to turn away. Letting this opportunity slip through his fingers like water would be a mistake, he knew, even if the only drink he got from it was simple fond memories and experiences. Campfire stories of times gone by, small tastes of what once was, as the liquid trailed into the ground and evaporated in the air.

“Not this one.” She said, pushing the flyer back into her bag, the illustrated paper crumpling in her haste. ‘Although, I suppose you could say that’s where I’m going.” Lloyd felt himself perk up at the words, even though he tried to keep his face unbothered. The woman noticed. “Have you been?” She asked, a hint of something in her voice that almost sounded… accusatory. Lloyd paid it no mind.

"It's… magical." He said, for lack of a better adjective. The atmosphere of the place was truly a spectacle, even if just a fading memory. "Do you know where it's going? I thought they kept no public schedule-"

"They don't." The woman said, and there was a tone of smugness to her words. "That's the tricky part. That's what I've been doing."

"You're going there?" Lloyd asked. The woman rolled her eyes.

"Of course I am: It's magical, as you said. Everything has a pattern, some form of logic, it's just trying to figure out where that pattern leads next."

Lloyd swallowed, glancing at his own bags. He had brought enough from his home - clothes, the remainder of the candlestick, enough of his savings to last him a while (There were perks to being the son of a local noble, after all…)

He knew he was going to regret this. He knew he'd regret it either way, if he stayed or if he went. If he made the impulsive decision to run, to leave his life and go on a potential wild goose chase to a ringmaster who might not even view him as anything more than just another night of delights. If he made the sensible decision to stay put, to continue on his intended path and put this all out of his mind, to seek closure when the candle burned the last of his wick and the spark that had ignited when Raven swept him off his feet finally be extinguished.

He took a breath. Then another.

"I'd like to accompany you, if you'll let me." He said.

"What?" Her head snapped round, staring at him once more. He didn't back down.

"The carnival- Ever since it first came… There's something different about it." Lloyd said. "Surely you know that, if you're that intent on hunting it down, right?"

A gleam of shared intent crossed the woman's eye. A gleam that Lloyd was sure he did not quite fully understand, but was willing to pretend to, if it meant he didn't just make a huge mistake.

"Sarah." She held her hand out, a little awkwardly at the angle they were at, sat side by side. "Sarah Mckiggen." Lloyd had to move to take it, his elbow almost jutting into the side of the train, but a firm handshake was well worth the discomfort. It was the very least he could do for someone who was letting him tag along like this.

"Lloyd Allen." He said, and returned the smile that Sarah was giving him. It was nice to have an ally.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks were full of train rides and taxi horse carriages, each time arriving too late for anything but the remnants of joy and memories that the circus left behind. It was better than nothing. It was better than watching the candle fizzle out. It was better than yearning and waiting for a fantastical show that might not even show up again.

Sarah was growing agitated, and Lloyd couldn't help but feel sorry for her. From the tale she had told, she'd been searching for close to a year, ever since two enchanters slipped through her fingertips. Lloyd had nodded, sipping his tea, despite not divulging his own fairytale in return. His nights with Raven was something he wanted to keep close to his chest, holding tightly lest they stop comforting him anymore.

He hadn't shared the candle with her. Sarah would insist he use it to ask where they were, would use it as part of her quest, not as part of Lloyd and Raven's intricate little dance. He hadn't told Raven of his travels, either. He didn't want to be talked down. Told he should think, to have patience, to wait. He didn't want to have his hopes dashed by Raven rejecting his plea to come stay, when it was so, so nice to hope.

"All that way-" Sarah began, her breath sharp and considerate, yet breathy and angry all the same. "All. That. Damn. Way. In one night. Goddess, at this point, we'll never catch up- It's as if they're running from something-"

Lloyd bit back his retort. Sarah just needed to vent her frustrations, she didn't need to be reminded how they could've been right. He had told her, weeks ago, they were likely to cross through that area soon. That they should set up there and wait for them, not waste their time travelling.

Sarah had been overjoyed when she realised that Lloyd had money on him. That they could finally afford to take more efficient, and more comfortable, options. And he had shared her joy - relished in the fact that there was someone else to rave about the carnival to, even if he didn't find himself mentioning the ringmaster. It helped prove it was more than just him. That it was really, truly real.

Sarah paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I suppose they are."

"Are what?" Lloyd asked, perking up from the spot he had laid claim to in the inn room they were staying in, maps and fliers to the circus around him in ways that would seem illogical to any outsider, but made perfect sense to him.

"Running. You know, I have half a mind to set the grounds they've just left on fire, just to make a point." Lloyd blinked, and readjusted his glasses, even though he was sure it was his ears failing him, not his eyes.

"Sorry?" He asked. Sarah sighed.

"You should go to sleep, Lloyd. I'll figure it out, your questions will only distract me." She said. Lloyd shook his head. As much as he had begun to care for Sarah in their time spent together, her plans were… less than great. It really was a wonder she had followed the carnival as far as she had when Lloyd had first met her.

Besides… that thing he thought he heard… the words that came out of her mouth…

"Why do you want to burn the carnival grounds?" He asked again.

"Why wouldn't we? Lloyd, are you feeling okay?"

No. No, he didn't. He felt sick to his stomach. They were on this journey together, a journey to find the carnival, to fulfil their wish, and find the charming enchantment that had originally enraptured them, right?

"But it's… magical." Lloyd said, slowly. Maybe Sarah herself was tired and not sure. Maybe he was just getting confused.

"And that's how we destroy magical things. Really, Lloyd, you have more sense than this. Just go to sleep and-"

"No." He said. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"No? You want to be a nuisance and prevent us from finding-"

"You can't destroy it." He found himself sitting up straighter, as more fight came into his voice. The fire of the carnival may be as beautiful as sparks of flame ready to ignite into a bonfire, but it didn't mean it burned everything it came into contact with into ash. It didn't mean it had to be doused in water and suffocated of oxygen and- "It's not even magic!" He argued. "Stage tricks- It's stage tricks, and-"

"Are you… aligned with the carnival?" She asked, her low voice turning into something more akin to a hiss, like a snake preparing to pounce, to crunch its prey and devour it whole, leaving nothing but stifled squeaks of fear. Lloyd took a breath.

“I don’t know what you mean by that. I don’t work there, I’ve never worked there- I simply want to get there-”

“Why?” She spat. “Are you a witch? Some warlock-”

“No, and neither are they- They simply put on a show and claim it’s magic, it’s called a performance because they’re just-”

“Oh, shut up, Lloyd.” Sarah said, standing up. Lloyd followed suit, facing her. Lloyd may have been taller, but Sarah’s glare made him want to back down again. What was it with her? He was never one to be threatened by others. “You’re enchanted by it, aren’t you? Or you’re working with evil forces? Either way, you’re wrong. Either way, you’re going to regret it when good wins, and mark my words, Mr Allen, good always wins.”

He didn’t back down. Even if the woman spoke the truth, if magic was different from something that was simply not yet explained… He doubted a force of nature could ever be correctly perceived as evil. Gravity wasn’t evil, despite causing landslides and falls. Water currents weren’t evil, despite pulling people out to sea. Flames weren’t evil, despite puffing out letters that Lloyd knew were burning down the wax it danced on.

Perhaps, some months ago now, he would have had his doubts. Maybe believed there was something inherently wrong with the way the Witch gleamed on stage, performing inexplicable magic trick after inexplicable magic trick. Believed the trickster ringmaster to be something malevolent, in the way he had tipped his hat and let countless birds fly out of it, puffing into confetti as they reached the top of the circus tent.

But now, Lloyd doubted that the man who wrote such thoughtful letters, the man who he had shared affections with, the man who seemed to care not only about his daughter, but the entire circus he ran, could be considered evil. A trickster, perhaps. Maybe even magical. But not outright evil. Not enough to watch as he burned to ash alongside everything he had expressed love for through the letters.

“I’m a witch hunter, Lloyd.” Sarah hissed, quiet in their close proximity. “I bring peace to the world. And I won’t hesitate to hurt anyone who gets in my way. There is undoubtedly at least one witch within the circus grounds, and I must-”

“Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t mean it must be destroyed.” Lloyd said, his voice firm against Sarah’s. He liked understanding things. He liked being able to predict, to know what to expect, to strategize and plan, and yet, what would be the point of understanding everything if there were no mysteries left to uncover?

“I was foolish to ever think you’d be of help.” Sarah said, finally turning away. Her voice had a strong tone of hurt to it… And that wasn’t right. Sarah was too proud for that, too quick to turn to anger instead of tears. “Of course you wouldn’t be. How could little old me ever think someone might actually want to help against the evils in this world. How could I ever be so stupid as to believe in things like noble kindness and-”

She stopped, pulled her hand away from her face and turned to face Lloyd. It was Lloyd’s turn to look away from her expression, the tears in her eyes…

“I thought we were friends. You promised to be an ally- You said we could find it together, that we could-”

“Not destroy it.” Lloyd said, but his own voice was softer. His eyes widened when he saw the small smile that flashed across Sarah’s lips at it. Was she looking to wear him down? Or was he simply being cruel, dismissing her feelings? It wouldn’t be the first time he was described as cold, after all.

“But that’s the only way we can win- It’ll never give up power without a fight. If we want to actually do something about it-”

“The carnival doesn’t hurt people.”

“How do you know? It’s certainly enchanted you.” The bite had come back to her voice, and Lloyd fell silent.

“I think I’d rather figure that out for myself, thank you.” He finally said, trying to hide the shake in his voice. Was he making a mistake?

“You’re a foolish man, Lloyd. Were all your promises a joke?”

“Were yours?” He countered.

“I can help you, I’ve been trying to help you-” She started to raise her voice, drawing closer. He held up his hand between them, just in case.

“No.” He said. “I don’t think it would be wise to continue working together-”

“So you’re just going to abandon me? All for a circus of horrors you can’t even imagine?”

“Or maybe the horrors aren’t there.” He said, taking a step away, trying to reach for his still unpacked bag. “Or maybe what you call horrors is what someone else calls home.”

“You can’t be serious, Lloyd-” She began. He sighed. As much as he hated to admit it… He cared for the woman. They were each other's only company - apart from Lloyd’s letters to Raven - for the last weeks. He hated seeing her like this, even if the rage in her eyes directed toward him was burning brightly.

“I’m sorry, Sarah.”

Sarah lit up, and Lloyd let her sit back down next to him as he moved back to his seat on his bed. He couldn’t help but notice how quickly her tears seemed to dry, as if they’d never been true in the first place.

“Sorry for?” She prompted. Lloyd ripped her eyes away from her once again, busying himself with looking through his bag, trying to pull something out. He knew the answer he was looking for. He knew he couldn’t give it. He wasn’t sorry for saying no to her. He wasn’t sorry for refusing to help her burn the carnival. He wasn’t sorry for every aspect of what he was about to do.

“For assuming we had the same goal.” He said, and her eyes widened, her brows furrowing slightly. She had been certain she had won, Lloyd realised. “Listen, I’ll…" He hesitated, before continuing, "I'll give you enough money to cover a few nights here, and for a carriage to wherever you see fit, whether that be your home or the next town you think the circus will be in, but I can’t keep doing this with you. I’m sorry. I can’t be the destruction of the circus.”

He was halfway out the door when Sarah next spoke, her words as cold and as sharp as ice.

“I swear to Elysium, Lloyd, you’ll burn with the circus, if I find you there. If you’re aligning yourself with a side that burns so brightly, don’t be surprised when you get caught up in the ash.”

Chapter Text

In all honesty, Lloyd thought it was much easier without Sarah. He could travel place to place without concern for the comfort of another person, wherever he thought the carnival would next show up.

He wasn’t right at first. He’d spend days travelling, taking a chance, only for the circus to show up on the other end of the county. Days were spent chasing leads that turned out to be different circuses altogether, the general public not having obsessed quite as much as Lloyd had in the last months. Even so, it was looking up. He was undoubtedly getting closer, undoubtedly drawing nearer and nearer to his end goal - He didn’t even know what his end goal was, anymore. To see Raven? It’d been months since they met in person, he had no reason to believe the letters they had been sending back and forth weren't simply polite communication between acquaintances. even if they had started to mean so much more to him. To join the circus? That was a laughable idea. He wasn’t an actor, let alone a performer. Maybe he could get a job backstage, convince them to let him stay… But just showing up, unannounced and desperate? He didn’t even have a damn resume on him.

It was then, as he was pondering his place in the circus, questioning his very goal, that the candle flickered out, and refused to light again.

The poor thing had been a simple nub for some time by then. Lloyd should have processed that the day was coming, and yet, the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. He couldn’t light it again. He couldn’t see a letter sputter through, he couldn’t send one, he couldn’t see the explosion of purple that was the only reminder he had of the ringmaster’s eyes.

He shouldn’t cry. He should have been expecting this. He felt his eyes start to grow damp anyway, wishing he had at least been able to pen a goodbye.

Maybe that’s why, when he arrived in the next town a couple hours too late to see the circus, he didn’t just sigh and resolve himself to try to figure out where they were going next. Maybe that’s why, when he saw the tracks that the carnival carriages had made in the ground, faint, barely visible, but there and existing, he took a breath, tightened his grip on the bag, and started to follow them.

If he lost the tracks, he was screwed. He didn’t know whether he’d be able to trek back to the town, knowing the opportunity had slipped out of his fingertips once more. He had to hope that they would stop moving for something, lest he have to travel potentially dozens upon dozens of miles by foot, hoping he arrived at the next destination before they had gone, leaving him in the dust of the dedication he had had for the last months.

Perhaps he should just give up. Go back home, back to the life he had before being swept away from it by life-filled dreams and hopeless wishes. But he’d thrown it all away, hadn’t he? He’d thrown it away the moment he decided to chase the impossible show. The moment he’d caught feelings for Raven, who should, by all accounts, be inappropriate for a noble’s affections. The moment he’d entered the circus tent and let childlike wonder and joy overtake him, as much as he tried and failed to hide it.

He had been travelling all day. He should have rested first. Evaluated his decisions and decided this was an awful idea, but his strategy and evaluation stood little match for the chaos and wonder of the carnival.

The place had filled his dreams for months, at that point, and maybe that’s why he thinks he’s dreaming when he finally sees it. The end carriages of a caravan trail he had only seen a few times before, when they were coming and going from his hometown, so many miles away by then. In hindsight, he’d blame his exhaustion on how he started running to catch up with it - and he really was tired.

He barely cared about the noise he made as he clung to it, stepping up and feeling himself move alongside it, to the steady beat of the horses that were pulling it, even if he couldn’t hear the sound of hooves on the dirt road they were traversing. He’d done it. He was here. He had won.

The sound of a door opening, someone coming to investigate the sound, no doubt, barely phased him as he screwed his eyes shut. The tiredness would’ve overtaken him if not for the precarious position he was in, and the sound of concerned voices that made him rip his eyes open once more.

“Go get your pa! Now!” A woman said to a child. A child with those same unnaturally purple eyes he had seen before. The older one rushed the child away, almost putting herself between them as she did so, as if Lloyd was a threat she needed to protect the girl from. Lloyd realised, with a small spike of guilt, that a threat was most likely exactly what he looked like.

As the girl ran off, up the chain of caravans and carriages, Lloyd started to raise his hands, an attempt to show he meant no harm, failing when he started to lose his balance and had to grab on once again. The woman just stared at him.

"Who are you?" The woman eventually said, still eyeing him with suspicion. "Why are you here?"

"I mean no harm!" Lloyd said, far too quickly to be believable. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Lloyd." He finally said, casting his eyes down at the look. He didn't want to be mistaken for someone like Sarah, be refused and kicked out and left when he had come so close. "Lloyd Allen. I came to find-"

"Lloyd?"

The familiar voice Lloyd's heart beat what must be a thousand times faster. He thought he'd be prepared for what he saw when he looked up, but somehow, the idea of Raven being without his stage makeup, without the overly flamboyant costume, using his cane simply to help him walk, rather than as a dramatic flair to a larger than life character, had never crossed his mind.

Words failed him, as he opened his mouth and closed it again. Everything he could think of to say sounded desperate, or sad, or like an utterly pathetic mockery of the emotions he was feeling. He wanted to leap off of his small foothold on the caravan, dive straight into the man's arms and find comfort in waking dreams, but he didn't. He couldn't. Not with the woman who thought he was a danger. Not with the child stood close to the man - the daughter he had mentioned in the letters, most likely - tightly holding on to Raven's shirt as she eyed him curiously. Not with Raven, who, for all he knew, had been glad when the candle snuffed out once and for all.

"Hi." He simply said, instead, trying to stand himself up straighter, and stumbling straight off of his perch and into the ground.

"He's not a threat, he's…" Raven started, offering Lloyd a hand to steady himself. He seemed just as lost for words as Lloyd felt, staring at him incredulously. "I don't know how you're here, but you're welcome- Elysium, how long have you been away from your home?"

Lloyd felt heat rush to his face as Raven looked him up and down. His clothes were crumpled from the day's travel, a far cry from the neatly ironed prestige he used to hold himself with. His hair was most likely a mess, sticking to his forehead with sweat, his necktie was hastily tied-

He looked ridiculous, showing up on Raven's doorstep like this, with simply a bag of the possessions he had taken and a thankfully answered prayer of being welcome.

"It- A while." He looked down once again, Raven's gaze being too much. "Please-"

"It's getting late, and you look exhausted, Lloyd-" Raven looked like he wanted to get closer, but stopped himself. "We'll get you some food and a bed- Asha, there's a spare cot in your trailer, isn't there? Would you be willing to share until we get him sorted?"

The rest of the night passed in a flash of food and fussing, Raven alternating between staying close and making sure he wasn't harmed, and backing away, as if getting within a foot of Lloyd was some deadly sin. He seemed as unsure as a clock pendulum trying to decide which part of its enclosure was preferable.

The woman, Asha, Lloyd assumed, was a welcome difference in that regard. She was steady, if still a little wary of him, but they took to each other like a house on fire - if much less destructive.

As much as Lloyd found himself staring after Raven when the man eventually left, having made sure that Lloyd was going to be alright, and making a badly hidden hasty retreat, conversation with Asha over a cup of warm tea, so much better than tea he had found in the inns and motels he stayed in, distracted him quickly enough.

They talked. About how Lloyd had ended up there, Asha's look of sympathy making him squirm under her gaze. They talked about the carnival itself, how, once upon a time, Raven had made it to provide a safe place to anyone who wanted to run, and it had evolved into what.it was today.

And then they talked about other things. About inventions and news and discoveries. Things they could both be interested in, even if they weren't personal. Ideas and theories that lasted long into the night, a smile on both their faces.

Maybe, even if Raven was an enigma, he still had a friend there.

Chapter Text

“Where are we?” Lloyd asked, when Raven opened the door to his trailer the next morning. He looked Lloyd up and down, evidently not having expected the man to be knocking on his door the moment the sun broke the horizon, bathing the train of circus caravans in the golden light of sunrise.

Lloyd crossed his arms at Raven’s gaze, entering the trailer the moment the man stepped aside. He’d travelled across half the country for answers, he wasn’t going to give up now. Not when the man he had searched for was within arms reach - literally. He could reach out right then and kiss the man, pull him closer and find himself lost in a steady embrace.

But he couldn’t. Not when the man was giving him such an odd look, when common sense won over for the first time in weeks and told him that despite being given shelter and food, he had nothing to suggest that Raven wanted an old, ex-fling here, even if the letters had suggested something stronger.

“How did the candle work?” Lloyd added, as the idea crossed his mind. “How did you travel so quickly from place to place? Why-”

Lloyd was cut off by Raven pressing a finger to Lloyd’s lips. Despite the clear gesture to be quiet, Lloyd went quiet for a much different reason, and he felt the blood rushing to his face.

This couldn’t be fair, how Raven had the means to silent him in just a small movement and a pointed lip, but he made no further objections as Raven moved away, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Son’s still asleep.” He said, with a tone that indicated Lloyd should also be.

“Then we can talk outside.” Lloyd argued. Raven nodded.

“Give me a few minutes, I wasn’t exactly expecting a visitor before the sun rose.”

Lloyd wanted to protest that the sun was very much visible upon the horizon when he knocked, but the realisation that Raven was without the layers of clothing he usually had, in a simple shirt and an untied necktie, made him shut up once again.

‘A few minutes’ stretched to something more akin to half an hour, as Lloyd sat, trying not to bounce his leg up and down to occupy himself, instead opting to grab fistfuls of his sleeves. It was less obvious, even if it did crease his already untidy shirt. He had tried to salvage it, to look much more presentable than he had the night before, but he had been mostly unsuccessful, with creased shirts and a jacket full of missing buttons, that he hadn’t been able to iron or fix while he was travelling. Maybe he could ask Raven, see if he could borrow some clothes from the man… Or would that be too pushy? Trying to get favours he hadn’t earned or deserved?

But eventually, Raven returned. He had eyeliner on, the wings way too dramatic to be unnoticeable… Which brought Lloyd’s attention to his eyes. As Lloyd thought about it, Raven’s eyes had been purple even when Lloyd caught him off guard. It didn’t make sense, it had to be some trick of the light, as Lloyd had told himself a dozen- a thousand times before. Raven offered Lloyd his arm.

With only a moment’s hesitation, Lloyd took it. Raven grinned at him, letting too sharp teeth shine.

"Shall we go, then?"

The early morning air was cold, but the heat in Lloyd’s cheeks fueled him like coal in a fireplace. He just hoped Raven couldn’t see the embers that must have been turning his face a shade of pink. Maybe he could blame it on the cold, instead of the way Raven was smiling and growing close in a way he hadn’t the night before.

“I have questions.” Lloyd started, his voice stark against the quiet noise of the carriage wheels next to them, as he started to walk, slowly, in time with them.

“I think we both do, Lloyd.” Raven said, casting a glance down the path. “You should stay close, though. Strange things can happen if you wander too far from the caravan’s route, especially in liminal places such as this.”

Lloyd blinked. “What? Liminal-?”

Raven gave a soft sigh, pulling Lloyd slightly closer to him. “We wouldn’t want you getting lost. Not here.”

Lloyd didn’t speak for a moment, but he wasn’t sure if that was because of a lack of understanding, or his tongue feeling tied as Raven’s arm tightened around his. Weeks upon weeks of time to plan his questions and proclamations, and yet, Lloyd couldn’t get a simple coherent sentence out.

“Why are you here, Lloyd? What happened at your home?” Raven turned to look at him, the same concern flickering in his eyes as there had been the night before. Lloyd took a breath. The question didn’t seem to imply that he would be made to leave just yet, if he didn’t give a satisfactory answer, and yet…

“What does it matter? I’m here now.” He said, making a pointed decision to not look at Raven’s gaze of sympathy. There was silence for a moment, before Lloyd sighed.

“The candle was running out. It’s gone, Raven. I couldn’t just… go back to not knowing you.”

“...It’s gone? It- Oh, Lloyd- I’m sorry. Time is… tricky in some of the places we go- I didn’t realise candles wouldn’t last that long out in the real…” Raven stopped walking, turning his full attention to Lloyd, staring at him with those unsettlingly vivid purple eyes. Lloyd stared straight back, almost wanting to back away, but the arm around his held him steady. “How long has it been gone? We talked so much- I thought you were just busy-”

“A few days.” Lloyd admitted.

“And you came all this way in a few days?”

“Well…” Lloyd trailed off, and Raven still gazed at him, expectation to hear his story. If only the story wasn’t sad and pitiful, at best. If only the story told of a valiant, successful search, and not weeks of spending time with someone who wanted to burn the place to the ground. “I’ve been searching for a while. Maybe I should’ve… said something about that.” He winced a little, decades of life and yet still not used to admitting his own mistakes. Raven sighed, and Lloyd looked away. This was it. Where he was told to leave when they arrived at the next destination. Maybe Raven would be kind and give him another candle, or maybe he’d leave Lloyd a wrecked remnant in the smoke.

“The carnival picks up the lost and wandering, the sane and the mad, the enchanters and the enchanted.” Raven said, walking once more. Lloyd matched his pace. “We can provide them refuge, or a safe means of transport, or a place - well, a trailer to call home. A family, if you will.” He hesitated for a moment. “We could’ve come to pick you up if you’d asked, you know.”

Lloyd let the moments hang in the air for a moment, before shaking his head.

“There was… I was travelling with a woman named Sarah, for a bit. I don’t think it would’ve gone well if the carnival picked her up, too.” He said, and Raven grimaced.

“That wouldn’t happen to be Sarah Mckiggan, would it?”

“She said she had a history with some people here. Something about two witches…?”

“One witch.” Raven clarified. “And one rather pleasant ex-shopkeep. It’s a long story, and not really mine to tell.”

Lloyd made a non-committal hum, and the pair walked in silence for a few moments longer. A shadow of something danced for a moment in the corner of Lloyd’s eye, a shape, or creature perhaps, that wasn’t there when he turned to properly look.

“Where exactly are we, Raven? How does the carnival travel so quickly?” He tried to hide how he clung slightly tighter to the ringmaster’s arms.

“Fae passages can be rather useful, if you know where you’re going. You’re luckier than you realise that you didn’t get lost in them following the circus last night.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lloyd let out a small laugh, and felt a slither of relief when Raven joined him with a chuckle.

“Nope.” He said, with a grin, and for once, Lloyd felt a creeping anxiety over his pointed teeth, rather than infatuated excitement.

“...Fae don’t exist.” Lloyd carefully said, with the same tone one might use to break the news of Santa’s existence to a small child.

“Yes they do.” Raven simply said. “My dad was one, ma tried to insist they weren’t real when I asked why my eyes were purple.” The ringmaster was still grinning, and Lloyd stopped in his tracks, staring out at the landscape.

“You’re a…”

“If it’s any consolation, I can’t steal names. I haven’t stolen yours.” A few moments ago, Lloyd would’ve been glad that Raven was seeming a lot more his ringmaster-self, comfortable after the uncertainty of Lloyd’s appearance had been cleared, but now, as he looked closer, in the light of a sun that wasn't earth’s, it seemed almost… uncanny? Ethereal? What was the word he was looking for? “I’m mostly just a bit magic and a bit purple - and iron’s a pain too, I suppose, but-”

“Magic?” Lloyd echoed, turning his attention to the carriages still moving on. Raven gave a soft laugh.

“How do you think they travel without horses?”

“...The witch?”

“Jill’s just a resident here, I power it.”

“Right, right…” Raven pulled away, dropping Lloyd’s arm, and it was only then Lloyd realised how tense he was. He swallowed, trying to make sense of it all. “...The candles were magic too, weren’t they?”

“Yup, and they weren’t dangerous, as some places claim all magic to be. I’m not dangerous, am I, Lloyd?”

Lloyd stared at him. At the teeth and the eyes and the magic surrounding them.

‘...I think you are, maybe. But you’ll have to be, if people like Sarah come knocking.” Lloyd drew closer, trying not to look at the expression on Raven’s face. “Is Raven just a stage name?” He tried to change the subject.

“Call me Raven. They all do.” He said, and Lloyd nodded, the non-answer not escaping his notice. He wondered if Raven was fae enough to be limited to the truth, or fae enough to be protective of his name.

“Alright… Raven, so-”

“I should go, and I recommend you get into a trailer. We shall be heading back to the human material realm really soon-” Raven turned away, but Lloyd reached out for his arm, stopping him.

“Raven,” Lloyd repeated, taking a deep steady breath, filling his lungs with confidence he so desperately needed. If he didn’t ask this now, when his mind was confused and tired and so, so many revelations were being made, he didn’t think he’d find the words to again.

“Can I still kiss you?” Lloyd asked.

Raven froze, staring at him, and Lloyd’s confidence retreated back as he exhaled the breath. Still, he needed to know where he stood with Raven, what the nights back at Lloyd’s hometown and the letters back and forth meant.

“I… I really should get back to- I- There’s things to do around the-”

He couldn’t help but note how Raven’s cheeks flushed an unnatural purple as he retreated back, pointing out Asha’s trailer to Lloyd. He was left standing there, until the warnings Raven had given him flashed in his mind, and he darted back into the trailer, ignoring Asha’s sleepy ‘good morning’ and offer of breakfast.

Chapter Text

The time passed with the tense tick of the clock, seconds turning to days in the blink of an eye. Lloyd had doubted Raven’s early claim of time being fluid in the fae realms, thinking of it as some metaphor for living life in the present, or something else the ringmaster was trying to get across about what life was like in the carnival that Lloyd hadn’t quite understood - but after the days had started blurring like the haze that cast shadow over the not-quite trees beyond the path, and Lloyd couldn’t count how many times Asha had offered him a cup of tea to ease his agitated fiddling, he thought he started to get it. Time didn’t simply seem to pass differently, it was quite literally incalculable. He could sit and watch the hour hand on his pocket-watch run backwards, for Elysium’s sake. That surely wasn’t normal.

Even so, when they finally, finally reached somewhere that wasn’t hazy passages imbued in a concoction of unease and uncanniness, Lloyd didn’t find himself wanting to leave. He was relieved, reaching down to touch a ground that was most definitely made of grass and dirt, just to feel the natural world beneath his fingers, but as he thought about it, the idea of returning there, travelling to all those circus destinations through fae tunnels like that, didn’t scare him as much as it should have.

Especially not when he found only three days had passed since he last remembered time working normally.

It would be so, so easy to travel with the carnival, to forget the life he used to lead, to forget time itself. Raven had said something about the carnival being home to lost wanderers - he surely counted as one now, given how long he had been searching, and how little he felt of his old life as being home.

…What would he have to do to let the carnival be his home? To be allowed to stay there? To be certain he wouldn’t just be unceremoniously dumped at a place he no longer called his home and told that he had overstayed his welcome? He didn’t have any particular talents that could be shown off in a circus ring - he really doubted there was a dedicated tent for chess. What else did he have? What could he do to earn a place here - and perhaps earn the ringmaster's affections while he did it?

He sighed. He’d dedicated so long to the strategy-driven game of chess that he’d barely had time to find out who he was, let alone anything he liked doing. Even in his brief stint at the drama department during his schooling, he hadn’t been one for acting, always being too uptight on stage, or trying to combat it by over-acting and looking more akin to a toddler’s first attempts at emotive storytelling. No, he’d much rather work as the stage-manager, anyway, doing all the…

“Backstage work.” Lloyd said, after tracking Raven down in the hustle and bustle of circus members trying to get tents set up. Raven gave him an odd look, until he clarified. “I could do backstage work. I can help out - lights or cues or costume changes or whatever it is you might need.”

Raven stared at him for a long moment.

“We use… Magic for most of those things.” He carefully said, watching as Lloyd’s hopeful expression began to drop. This was it. He wouldn't be able to- He had to have some use to justify showing up in the middle of the night-

Raven hurriedly added “But, sure - If you want a job to do, I’m sure we can find something.”

Which was how Lloyd ended up hidden in the backstage shadows, dressed in black, and gazing at the obscured view of Raven performing. A woman he’d been introduced to as Floozy on both sides of the man, pretending to be perfectly-in-sync identical twins, or something to that nature. Lloyd didn’t know how he’d ever thought anything here was anything but magic - although, suspension of disbelief and lack of questioning must have been easier when he was sat in an audience, rather than watching from where the tricks should have been more visible.

That was the main job he’d been given, he supposed. To exist as a stagehand, even if the show didn’t need one given the magic it relied on, simply to act as security in case any audience member became slightly too convinced of magic. If people like Sarah were going to be more and more common, they were going to need all the unbelievability they could get.

Part of him had wanted to ask why they didn’t just use regular tricks, sleight of hand or acrobatics, to put on a show, but one look at Raven’s purple eyes and he had his words stuck in his throat. Not everything could be hidden, and if things in the circus were already unbelievable, it drew less attention to the more mundane things that couldn’t be explained away with stage prestidigitation.

His train of thought was broken by a small, muffled shout, and his attention snapped to behind him, where the stage lights provided little to see by. Hesitantly, he followed the scuffle of movement in the shadows, and couldn’t help but find the small child’s giggle, barely audible over the louder laughs of the audience members, slightly eerie.

He didn’t know what he expected when he found himself outside the circus tent, in the dim light of twilight, but a disgruntled Son Mi’s hand being gripped by an exasperated woman was not it.

“Sorry, sorry,” The woman rushed to apologise. “You know you’re not supposed to distract anyone trying to perform.” She told the child. “Come on, Son, you wanted me to babysit you tonight-”

"Because you're easiest to run away from," Son whined, pulling on the woman's arm. "And Lloyd's not performing."

The woman looked at him, studying his face for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh- Oh, you're the one Raven was talking about, aren't you?"

"The one who clung to a moving vehicle," Son giggled again, and despite seeing her do it, knowing who the sound was coming from, it didn't sound quite right. Not in the manic way Raven cackled, but something softer, falling firmly into an uncanny valley territory.

Lloyd crossed his arms.

"That doesn't matter." He said, as the woman held out her hand, holding back a small chuckle. Slightly humiliated, he took it.

"I'm Marjolein." Marjolein said, smiling.

Lloyd cast a nervous look around as Son played, throwing stones in the air that stayed in flight for far longer than they should have, if they were obeying the regular laws of physics. The tent show was still ongoing, and even so, they were behind enough trailers that no peeking eyes should have seen them, but, as he watched the girl play, he couldn't help but remember Sarah's words.

She wanted to destroy this. All of this. The swishing of Raven's costume as he introduced an act, the odd, psychedelic beauty of the fae tunnels, the child, who's laughter was starting to grow on him, as the rock flew down and up and down and-

He pulled his knees to his chest, and Marjolein, sat next to him on the grass, half keeping an eye on the child and half lost in her own head, shot him a glance. They had talked, trying to keep Son away from the sight of strangers while she was tired and prone to magical outbursts. It was nice having another person to talk to in this odd place, one who seemed just as magic-less as he felt. It was nice having friends.

"Are you magic, too?" He had to ask, just in case he made a very, very wrong assumption. Marjolein shook her head.

"No, no, that's my girlfriend's job." She smiled. "But it's nice though, isn't it? The magic? I never really knew of it before, and now…"

"...Yeah." Lloyd agreed. "It's-" He cut himself off before he said something about how he didn't want it destroyed - he couldn't say that. Not when Son might hear, and her carefree playing could be interrupted. She didn't deserve the worry. Neither of them did. Not when Marjolein was smiling to herself at the thought of it, Lloyd recognising the slightly lovestruck, wonderous curiosity. "Do you ever perform?" He changed the subject instead. Was Marjolein here on the same terms he was? Working backstage? Babysitting?

Marjolein shrugged. "Sometimes I act as the assistant in Jill's magic tricks, but she doesn't really like it when I do. She keeps thinking she's going to hurt me."

"Has that happened before?" Lloyd had to ask. "Magic hurting someone?"

"Accidents happen. I've only been here a couple months, but, well, at least we have magic to heal injuries - And Asha taught me how to tie a bandage." She gave a soft laugh, and a moment of silence fell upon them.

"...Does it scare you?" Lloyd had to ask.

"Not as much as I think it should. Does it scare you?"

"I know it scares some people." Lloyd avoided the question. "Raven… mentioned you and Jill having a history with Sarah."

Marjolein sucked in a shallow breath, and Lloyd had a feeling he'd hit a sore spot.

"Sarah… People like her… People who listen to people like her…"

She turned her attention back to Son, at the rock still being tossed, glowing slightly in the setting sun, looking almost like a firefly. Son tossed it up, too high that time, and she went running to try and catch it.

"It scares me more than magic does." Marjolein admitted, as the rock fell to the ground, having missed Son's outstretched palm.

Chapter Text

It was hard to believe that Raven, the man who sent words of affection and romantic proclamations through the letters with the swiftness of a flying sparrow, was the same man who hesitated in his presence, kept glancing at Lloyd with odd looks, and, despite acting as if they may one day have the familiarity that had been promised in the letters, batted off any attempt Lloyd made to take things further. All in all, the ringmaster confused him. He was a fascinating puzzle, one he at least wanted to know the general shape of, even if he couldn’t work it all out.

He couldn’t recall if Raven had been like that before, when the circus had visited Lloyd’s city the first time, and their words to each other consisted of whispered nothing, or talk that made the heat rush to Lloyd’s face so much he could barely pay attention. He should’ve paid closer attention to the affections he had been given, the affections he had done nothing to earn, and that he still yearned to have now.

At least now he could catch stolen glances at the circus ring between his duties backstage, catch glimpses of Raven as he performed and joked and sang for the crowds. He seemed so at home in the sea of attention - maybe that was what was meant when the people he talked to spoke of the carnival being home to them.

He startled almost out of his skin one day, as Raven approached behind him while Lloyd double checked some electric lights they were using for an act later that day. He had lain a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder from the back, and Lloyd didn’t know whether the sudden touch, or Raven’s slightly scheming grin, scared him the most. He wanted to ask what the man was planning, but it felt as if his own tongue was tied, swelling in his throat as the man’s purple eyes bore into him.

“Awful news.” Raven said, despite the smile. “Floozy’s ill. How’s your acting?”

Lloyd blinked.

“What?”

“Floozy’s ill, how’s your-”

“Yes, yes, I heard that,” Lloyd cut him off, as a different kind of worry started to brew in his chest. “But I’m not- I’m doing the- Marjolein isn’t in the show tonight either, I’m sure she would be much better than-”

“Marjolein and I don’t have the blazing tension that makes audiences go wild.” Raven said, as if sharing a secret.

“And we do?” Raven raised an eyebrow, and Lloyd cleared his throat to talk once more, “I mean, we've not-”

“Nonsense. Ask anyone here if there's tension between us, they'll say-”

“Fine.” Lloyd said through gritted teeth, mostly to draw the attention off of his burning face. “Although, I wouldn't count the kind of tension we have as a good-”

“Then it's settled!”

Lloyd sucked in a sharp breath, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. He shouldn't have agreed, he'd be terrible on stage, he'd-

“Raven, I'm not a good actor.”

“You don't have to be! Just follow my lead. You'll be fine, I promise - oh, just wait until we get you a proper costume, you'll look dashing.” Raven rambled on, as Lloyd felt himself losing grip on the words.

They barely had a script. Floozy could improv and dance and play off Raven's persona with years of experience under her belt, but Lloyd?

“And we'll get you some face-paint as well,” Raven said, his hands flapping up and down in the air with his excitement. “It'll be utterly delightful.”

Lloyd forced a smile on his face, nodding, and trying to ignore how much of a nightmare having paint on his face would be for his senses.

When, a few hours later, Raven came knocking on the door to his trailer, hands full of fabric and makeup, Lloyd was not prepared. He wasn't prepared for Asha’s raised eyebrow at the two of them either, but that was besides the point.

“Doesn't Floozy normally wear pink?” He hesitantly asked. “Not… Brown?”

“It's gold, Lloyd.” Raven said indignantly, dragging Lloyd into the bathroom, a small, slightly cramped part of the trailer. “Sure, Floozy wears pink, but you're not her. Gold will suit you, I'm sure of it.”

Lloyd gave a soft hum, his attention more focused on Raven's hands bringing the fabric closed to his face, as if comparing it with his complexion, and the way his lips flicked upward in a barely depressed smile, Raven practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“And the face paint, too… metallic colours will go with the gold, I think - Unless you want something else - Do you want to put it on yourself?”

Lloyd was well aware that his mouth was slightly open, trying to keep track of the excitable, disjointed words. He felt like an idiot when the first thing that came out of his mouth was a quiet “uhh”, but the sound echoed throughout the small bathroom like a death sentence.

“Or I can do it, if you'd like.” Raven said.

Sighing, Lloyd relented. His own knowledge of paints, especially on faces, was limited. Even if he had the skills to do it, he doubted he could pull off something in the same style the rest of the carnival seemed to wear, or have the same, slightly uncanny, slightly mesmerising effect.

Lloyd fiddled with the sleeve of the just-too-long gold jacket, trying not to think about how it might have fit Raven if he had worn it once upon a time ago. Or maybe he should think about that.

It was better than focusing on the brush on his face, Raven's focused expression, the feeling of damp on his skin which he should be able to ignore, but he had to purposefully close his hand into a fist to resist the urge to wipe it off-

This was all fine. Completely and utterly fine.

“So I just… try to respond to you in an entertaining way?” Lloyd tried to clarify. Raven gave a small laugh.

“Exactly! You'll do brilliantly, I'm sure of it.”

“And do you happen to have any examples of what you'll be saying?” He pushed. If he could just think of some witty responses before the show started, maybe it wouldn't be so disastrous.

“We won't know until the show starts, will we?” Raven said, tapping the brush to the tip of Lloyd’s nose in an affectionate gesture, making heat rise to Lloyd’s face once more.

“Have you just given me a clown nose?”

“Perhaps. Now where's the mirror…”

He brandished a mirror from the mess of the small, sectioned off bit of the tent they were in. Raven had pulled him away, into the backstage parts of the big tent, to finish getting ready, claiming that the audience would be arriving soon, and it was easier to get there early, rather than wade through crowds.

The thought made Lloyd’s head almost start spinning. It was one thing being seen as a glimpse backstage, or appearing to help wheel in a prop or two. It was quite another to be the one all the attention was on.

Catching his reflection in the mirror, he couldn't help but think Raven had done a good job. Coppers and golds and silvers lined his face, with a faded white background that almost made the metallics look like cracks in a porcelain doll.

“What inspired this?” He couldn't help but asked. Raven grinned, stretching his hands out, and wiggling his fingers in pazazz.

“Vibes.”

“Personally I don't think I give off the ‘vibes,’” He put the word in air quotes “Of a doll-”

Raven hummed. “Too bad.” He said, before turning to a more serious tone and asking “But you… do like it, though? You don't want me to change it?”

Lloyd gave him a soft smile. How couldn't he, when Raven had spent so long on it? Been so focused? Even if Lloyd was nervous about the show, the least he could do was try to earn the affection Raven was giving him.

That's why he was agreeing, wasn't it? Anyone else and he would outright refuse, laugh in their face for suggesting he could act. But Raven?

He wouldn't be walking out into the circus ring for anyone else, as the crowd erupted into excited applause, their claps sounding like small explosions in Lloyd’s mind. Every light, magical and electric alike, seemed to shine ten times brighter, and Lloyd had half a mind to run and check them when he next got off stage.

He took a deep breath, trying to focus on that simple goal, keep a smile on his face for the crowd. Even the smell of popcorn, that he had associated so much with the candle and the ringmaster stood next to him, made him almost want to empty the contents of his stomach.

The jokes fell flat. Of course they did, when Lloyd's focus was spent on not covering his ears, not screwing his eyes shut. He doubted he'd be able to recall his own name if someone asked.

Their eyes gazed upon him, piercing his soul like a hundred tiny stings. He was trying, damnit, couldn't they see that? He was trying, and he was messing up the show, and there was a glint of concern in Raven's blinding eyes, and-

Raven's arm was around his shoulders, hurriedly introducing the next act as he guided him off stage, and Lloyd wanted to cry.

Chapter Text

Stupid, ridiculous, overdramatic, pathetic, thief-

The cold struck Lloyd's face almost as much as the words, as he stepped out into the night. His breath curled in front of his lips in a mist, dissipating in the dark air, much like his own pride. Crossing his arms, he kept walking, ignoring Raven's voice behind him, the calls of concern and worry, making him curl his fingers even tighter into the fabric of the jacket, until his knuckles turned white.

He kept going, trying his damn best to focus on his own footsteps, on his fingertips almost hurting with the force of his grip on the jacket, instead of anything else. Anything that would add to his irritability, make him snap at the man behind him, squander all that he'd been given.

It was impossible to tell how long he'd been walking when he finally sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest, although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, the slightly muffled music of the show still filling the air.

“Lloyd!” Raven took the stop as the opportunity to call out, kneeling next to where Lloyd had sat on the grass, and drawing closer. Lloyd shook his head, bringing his palms to his face. They were warm against the chill wind, but he didn't flinch away at the discomfort.

“Let me have a minute.”

There was silence for a moment, then a rustling sound. As Lloyd looked out from behind his hands, Raven had gone from kneeling in front of him, to sitting beside him, although, as Lloyd studied his face, trying to see his expression, any anger or annoyance or distaste Raven felt for him, he still looked concerned.

He didn't react, however, simply closing his eyes again, trying to breathe. Why was Raven here? Didn't he have a show to run? Company to keep that wasn't him? Didn't Raven deserve better than to be sat on the ground, in the cold?

Lloyd had to admit it was nice having him there, though. Nice to have someone beside him he could match his breathing pace to, who was taking purposefully slower breaths to try and help calm him. He took a hand off of his face, hiding it in his sleeve, instead, running his knuckles along the fabric inside of it.

It was Raven who broke the silence, once the shake to Lloyd’s hands had stopped, and Lloyd was simply staring at the ground, feeling his own shame start to creep in.

“I have some buttons in my pockets, if you think they might help.”

“What?” Lloyd looked up, unable to bring himself to meet Raven's eye.

“Some people here like to hold them, or sort them, or focus on them when the lights get too bright.” Raven shifted, digging his hand into one of the many pockets and pulling out a couple of them. He offered them to Lloyd.

Lloyd shook his head, feeling his fingernails dig into the heel of his palms as he unthinkingly clenched them again.

“No, no- Why do you keep offering me things? All of - this?” He tried to keep the shake out of his voice. He failed. “It isn't fair, Raven.”

He felt Raven's eyes on him, saw the way his mouth opened, as if to say something, and then closed it again.

“I don't understand what you're asking, Lloyd. Just… tell me what you want me to do. What can I do to help you?”

“Be honest with me!” Lloyd felt himself lose control of his tone, and he felt glad that everyone else seemed to be in the tent. At least then no one could see him shout at the man who was giving him a home and warmth and food. The man who Lloyd had dreamed about being with for so long, both before he had arrived at the carnival, on the journey with Sarah, and once he had arrived, trapped in the state of uncertainty that was where he stood with Raven.

He wanted to know. Know whether he was going to be made to leave once they arrived close to where he had once lived. If Raven despised him after intruding on his life and family. He wanted to know if Raven's reluctance to talk about what they were was deliberate, if he was trying to spare Lloyd's feelings, or if it was because Raven himself did not know. He wanted to know if he had irreparably screwed everything up tonight, if he had been given a chance to earn his keep, and had ruined it by walking out.

Raven sighed. “Honest about what?”

Lloyd took a deep breath, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. “Why aren't you making me leave?” He asked, wishing beyond anything he could collapse into Raven's awkward (Since when was the ringmaster awkward?) arms, hovering and uncertain. He was sure Raven would oblige, if he leaned into them, or he asked, but he didn't deserve such softness. Especially when he couldn't even form the words to ask for it.

“Why would I make you leave? The carnival welcomes all-”

“All who need it, Raven. All who need it - and I had a place, somewhere, I used to- I… shouldn't get any of this. Especially not when I ruin your shows.”

“You haven't gone back home though, have you?” Raven said, quietly. “You never turned back. You needed to arrive here- And you didn't ruin the show-”

“It was you I was searching for, Raven. Not the carnival. It was always you.”

Raven sucked in a sharp breath. “I-”

“And then you refused to talk about it! You don't tell me what I have to do to earn a place next to you, you don't tell me why you keep me at an arm's length, you don't tell me if I do things wrong or right - you're refusing to tell me I ruined the show, when I know I did!”

“Lloyd. You didn't ruin the show. Floozy can take over. I lied. She's not sick.”

Lloyd paused.

“What?”

“It was a- a stupid plan, Lloyd, but I wanted to spend time with you without… I didn't want to impose on you if you were truly just trying to find a home here. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“Why would you be taking it away from me?”

“I'm very good at making people uncomfortable. I didn't want to drive you away too. Especially since… I enjoy being around you, and not just the nights together we spent before.”

Raven turned away, and Lloyd couldn't help but feel slightly comforted that it wasn't just him who couldn't face who he was talking to.

“I'm selfish. I wanted to have that time with you, and it all turned out… I'm sorry.” Raven said. Lloyd blinked. It didn't make sense.

“But it's… my fault I couldn't handle being in the show.”

“And I should've listened when you objected. It’s my fault you were there in the first place, that I made you feel like… you had to earn a place to be there.” That still didn't make sense.

“But that's how affection works. You have to earn it.” Lloyd objected.

“Not by working for me! Not at all!”

“Then how?” Lloyd asked. What else would anyone want? His father had only cared when he worked to be the best he could be academically, and even then, his best hadn't been enough, he'd learned that lesson the hard way. Sarah had only cared when Lloyd had been helping her track the carnival. What else could he do?

“Maybe we should make some time to get to know each other, some more.” Raven said. “Spend it together. I'm sure there's a cafe or something in the town we've stopped in. We can… go on a regular date, perhaps. What do you think, Lloyd?”

Lloyd was silent for a long moment, until eventually, Raven added. “Or… maybe some other day. Or not at all, if you hate the idea of a date to a cafe… Maybe there'd be a nice garden or something somewhere- or, or I could make us some nice food and we could-”

“I never thought you'd be the type to be awkward about something about this.” Lloyd let himself smile a little, and Raven met it with a small self-deprecating one.

“It's different when it's someone you’ll spend a lot of time with. I was awkward giving you the candle, wasn't I?”

“I suppose.”

Raven gave a soft laugh.

“Maybe that's a reason to get to know each other a lot more. I want to know what harmless things make you awkward, Mr Allen.”

Lloyd hummed, glancing back at Raven, before giving up on his previous pride, and moving closer. Raven hesitated a moment, before wrapping an arm loosely around Lloyd's shoulders.

“So… What do you say, Lloyd?”

“Does it mean I get to kiss you?” Lloyd asked, the smile starting to spread on his face. Maybe Raven would answer his previous question after all.

Raven jokingly gasped. “And here I thought you weren't the type. Kissing before marriage! Before our first date, even? What’s next, hand holding?”

Lloyd made a grab for Raven’s hand, just to make a point.

“I… wouldn't exactly call myself a noble, anymore.” He said, the smile dulling slightly on his face.

“Does that bother you?”

Lloyd thought for a moment, holding Raven’s hand in his, and shuffling to lean his head on Raven's shoulder. He was just as warm as Lloyd had imagined.

“No, I don't think it does.”