Author's Note: So I'm experimenting with different viewpoints to show you the characters in a different light and hopefully things that may have been confusing or unclear until now are smoothed over. So until further notice, this will be in Han's PoV because he received the highest vote of approval. Also, please comment! I'd love to hear what you want to see happen and some things I could work on! Really, I find criticism helpful. Thank you everyone for 1.6K reads!! I love you all!
-----------------------------------------
Eventually, with much stumbling, tripping, giggling, and dizzy horseplaying, we made it to the village in one piece.... or at least mostly one piece; Kurt had surfaced from the stream missing much of the skin off his right arm after he'd been scraped against several rocks under the water. Otherwise, the race down the hill had turned out harmless. I was surprised.
As we turned a corner that hid us from view before we would be completely shown to the town, I stopped our odd party and glanced at Loki. He was dressed in full Asgardian armor, minus the flashy helmet. "This can't happen. Got any normal clothes?"
He glared at me before his armor shimmered with a blueish light and was transformed into jeans and a fall jacket buttoned up over a white shirt. "Will this do?" he snipped.
I nodded and we continued on our way down the main road, past an old church with peeling white paint and a stained glass window in the front door, past a courthouse with pillars holding the entryway covering, past the convenience store and a few cafés, to the opposite end of town. As we exited the clusters of buildings, a familiar shape came into sight.
Beyond the outskirts of town, way off in the distance, in the center of a large, grassy field, was a pattern of colorful tents pitched around the largest tent in the center with a flag flapping at the top in the brisk autumn air. Each tent was a different color and raucous voices carried across the expanse toward us from the site.
I sighed. I had never wanted to return to a circus again but we had no choice. Footsteps faltered in turn as they each realized where we were headed, but I was concerned for Lyrica. When I turned to look for her, she had frozen in place, staring fearfully at our destination. "Lyrica?"
She shook her head numbly, braid falling over her shoulder.
The poor girl- she was being forced to walk back into her darkest nightmare without a single say in the matter. And I was dragging her here after me. Sympathetically, I rested my arm around her shoulders and shook her gently just to see her move. "I can't do it, Parrain," she said, voice shaking slightly.
"Yes, you can. You're stronger than this. What if Jacques or Rose were here?"
"I'd have to go."
"And how is right now any different?"
"It's not," she sighed, resigned.
"Then let's go."
She was reluctant, but I got her walking toward the tents again, however grudgingly. As we neared the circus, distinctive voices could be heard as well as the sounds of animals and unseen instruments. But I realized with a start that many of the voices were familiar, like vague shadows of a hazy dream. With a glance at Clint, my fear was confirmed; this was no random circus; this was the same circus we'd run to and away from as teenagers.
Thankfully, it was not the same circus that had scarred Lyrica so many years ago. When she understood this, her pace picked up and she held her head a little higher. Clint and I led the way toward the tents and were spotted quickly by a woman hanging her wash on a line. She stared openly before her mouth dropped and her hands lost hold on the basket of clothes she was carrying.
Even from this distance, I could tell her eyes had widened considerably, but she still hadn't moved. I slowed the pace of the group before approaching. "Um, ma'am, we don't mean to interrupt but we're travelers and-"
As soon as I was close enough, she'd come running toward us, lifting her skirts in one hand. I was cut off when she hugged me. Startled, I pulled away quickly. "Excuse me, but-"
"Han Bennett, ya cannot tell me you don' have recollection of me 'n that thick head o' yours," she chided, knocking a fist lightly on my forehead.
When I heard her voice, I laughed and shook my head. "Of course I remember you, Ma Leah. Or at least now I do."
She made a face of dissatisfaction, but her green eyes were sparkling. "You'd better or I'd have to whup you an' your trouble-makin' friends like I used to."
I laughed as the others joined us where we stood. Clint was also crushed in a motherly hug as I began to make the introductions. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Ma Leah." She smiled to everyone and met their eyes in turn as I gestured to each. "You remember Clint of course, Barney's younger brother."
She nodded, grey bun bobbing at the back of her head. "And this is Agent Natasha Romanoff, Kurt Wagner, Douglas Ramsey, Kitty Pryde." Kitty poked Megan as I came down the line toward her and she spun to attention, ponytail flying. "And Megan Gwynn who also goes by Pixie."
"An' why's that?" Ma Leah asked, eyeing Megan's unorthodox pink hair.
Wordlessly, Megan lifted the spell on her wings and let them flutter in the open sunlight. Ma nodded, stunned. "This is Loki Laufeyson, prince of Asgard," I continued.
She turned to look at Loki and made a disbelieving face. "A prince, huh." He glared down at her and she held her hands up. "Fine, fine. But another look like that an' I'll do to ya what I used ta do ta Han and his friends. You won' sit for a week."
I chuckled at Loki's reaction and finished by resting an arm across Lyrica's shoulders. "And Ma, this is Lyrica, Barn and Rose's daughter, Jacques' granddaughter, and my goddaughter."
Ma Leah's lips parted and her face lit up. "Well, aren't you a pretty somethin'." She hugged her tightly before holding her at arms' length and saying, "Now let me take a look at ya." Her eyes scrutinized Lyrica from the top of her fire-red hair to the tips of her worn brown boots. Pursing her lips, Ma Leah tsked her tongue in approval. "Spittin' image of your mum but-"
"With Grandpére's hair and eyes," Lyrica finished, blushing underneath her smattering of freckles.
Ma Leah nodded, motioning with a sweeping arm for us to follow her through the maze of tents. Each time we passed someone she knew well- I was beginning to feel like she knew everyone pretty well-, she had to stop and proudly display Clint, Lyrica, and myself. We were greeted enthusiastically and some of the older folks recognized Clint, though fewer recognized me.
At long last, we arrived at the sprawling, low tent that usually held the kitchens and tables for dining. Just like Ma Leah, I thought. Not one to let travelers go hungry for any length of time.
But I soon realized, we weren't here to be fed.
Ma Leah stopped us outside the dining tent and called over to a group of adults sitting at a table by the fireplace. A pot of dark liquid was boiling over the flame and I could catch the scent of coffee wafting from mugs held in chilled fingers.
At the sound of her voice, the heads lifted and I almost choked. It couldn't be; I was seeing things.
But when a woman rose from the table and cautiously approached us, there was no mistaking her. "Rose?" I said, not entirely believing what I was seeing.
But Rose hadn't seen me at all. She was gazing at Lyrica who stood with her feet staked to the grass. "Ma?" she rasped, voice cracking.
Rose's face broke into a brilliant smile and she laughed as Lyrica took a shaky step and hugged her mother. What had it been? Four years? Five maybe? They hadn't been together a single day in all that time and it had been even longer since I'd seen Rose smile.
We let them have their moment before Ma Leah led us away again to a smaller tent with an opening in the top to allow smoke out. But currently, the flaps had been pinned back on three of five sides, and the fire pit inside was a vacant mess of black char. "Jus' stoppin' for a tad," Ma told us as she untied her apron and hung it on a peg. Also hung on the peg was a set of brass bells strung on a black ribbon, a hat with a peacock feather stuck in the fold, and an eclectic collection of spices and home remedies in the form of herbs, plants, charms, and garlic bundles.
After Ma had had her rest, our next stop was the ringmaster's offices where I knew I would have a lengthy story to tell. But I was proven wrong when the ringmaster stood and I knew I had never met the man before. Good thing- if it had been anyone that was here during the time Clint, Barn, and I had run off, there would be a hefty amount of explaining to do. Not something I felt up to doing right now.
"Ah, the travelers," he began in a faded European accent. "Welcome! My name is Mr. Bates." He opened his arms with a flourish as if displaying the entire valley as his pride and joy. "I hear two of you have some experience with the business, but to be a member of the troop, each individual must contribute. Simple, I hope it is not too much to require."
"Not at all, sir," I replied.
"Wonderful! Anything for the show?" he prodded, leaning forward at the waist with his hands clasped behind his back. He was a tall, lanky man with a curly brown goatee and thick brown curls receding from his hairline. When I got a look at his eyes, I realized they were different colors; the left was blue but the right was green-brown.
After quick introductions, Clint was first to speak. "Well," he began. "Natasha and I are sharpshooters, Loki, Kitty, and Megan are illusionists, Doug is a puzzle solver, Lyrica can be used anywhere at all, and Han..." He trailed off, allowing me to speak.
"I'm a specialist. Put me anywhere you need me and I'll help."
"What about me?" Kurt piped up. Clint and I looked him over before sharing a grimace.
"Backstage perhaps," the ringmaster, Mr. Bates, suggested.
"Ehhh, I don't know, he's kind of accident prone," Clint replied.
"The kitchens then?" Ma Leah added.
I had a brief mental image of Kurt running in circles with his tail on fire. "Uh, probably not."
"Hey!" Kurt protested. "I'm not that bad!"
Lyrica turned a withering look on him. "Seriously? Not that bad? Dude, you make tornadoes look tame."
He opened his mouth before closing and opening it again. "True though that may be, I can take stuff seriously when I want to."
"Suuuuure," Megan teased, punching him in the shoulder.
"I'm great with animals," Kurt said, rubbing his arm and scooting away from the girls.
"Great!" Mr. Bates grinned. "Then everything is in order. You are welcome to stay as long as you like."
"Thank you, sir," Clint told him.
Mr. Bates excused himself and disappeared into his office again before Ma Leah led us away to a small cluster of yellow tents with red stripes on the roof flaps. "You'll be stayin here for the duration. If ya need anythin', jus' holler."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, thanking her and pushing aside a tent flap. In each tent were two cots and a hammock strung between support poles. Each tent was about thirty feet in diameter with maybe twelve feet of head space at the highest point. "Brings back memories," I said to Clint as he hung his bow and quiver on a peg.
"Yeah, it does," he agreed. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing yet."
Got a point there, I thought, sinking onto a cot. Natasha claimed the cot across from mine and Clint took the hammock. I was thinking it would be all set when Rose pushed aside the flap carrying a bag of her things. "Thought I'd join you, if that's alright," she said.
I nodded, standing and offering her the cot but she shook her head. "Han, I'll just ask for another cot to be brought in. It's okay, really."
"If you're sure," I said. The look she gave me was enough and I took my seat again. Once she'd hung her things on a peg or left them on the ground, she headed off to ask for another cot and I left to check on how the younger ones were faring.
In the next tent to the right, the teens had left their stuff in the center and rearranged the cots so that they were closer and anyone lying in a cot could see the entrance and the other cots without the center pole as an obstruction. Loki was swinging silently in the hammock, appearing uninterested but with an ear on every minuscule sound.
Kitty and Kurt were arguing about something pointless, and Doug and Lyrica were setting up. Megan wasn't there, but I assumed she had left to find more cots. "Alright?" I asked as Lyrica stood.
"Tout bon, Parrain," she replied. (All good.)
"Need anything?" I asked Doug as he stood as well.
"No, sir, we're all set. Megan is getting more cots and Kitty or Kurt will be finding bedding."
"Okay then," I said, leaving the tent.
After a loud dinner with the troop, we gathered around a bonfire on the outskirts of the circus tent line. Flat-topped logs were arranged in a circle around a protected fire that cast its glow far into the humid night, over much of the empty field to the beginning of the thin forest beyond. I took a seat and watched Lyrica as she laughed with her friends. They sat together to my right a few logs along, clumped in a way that allowed them to talk among themselves.
When Kurt tugged Lyrica's braid playfully, I laughed; I knew what was coming. She leapt from her seat and they roughhoused for a bit before Kurt fell backwards over the log and Doug caught her wrist. I'd begun to form suspicions about those two, but my suspicions were confirmed when Kitty reached out a foot to kick a log beneath Doug's feet so that he tripped with Lyrica in tow. While a member of the troop passed me, I lost sight of the rowdy troublemakers and was surprised to see that Lyrica had reclaimed her seat on the log with Doug on one side and Megan on the other after I had view again.
As the breeze blew through the circle and stirred the sparks floating up from the fire, I felt inside my pockets. In my jacket, I closed my fingers around a box that had been whittled by hand from a willow tree. Relieved, I sighed; it would be Lyrica's birthday present tomorrow. It should have been hers long before now, but after Daniel's death, I hadn't had a chance to give it to her.
Dusk deepened, and the fire became the major source of light. Like the stars, instruments gradually began to appear. Violins, a guitar, a banjo, various woodwinds, a drum or two, and a tambourine were brought out by the troop. With a smile, I glanced toward Lyrica again; she loved music and was normally the first on her feet when a dance tune was heard. Oddly though, she remained seated for the first three songs. But I knew what could get her moving. I stood and crossed the circle to where the musicians were re-tuning and tapped the lead violinist. She turned to me with a smile and a swish of her skirts, keeping time with her tapping foot.
"Do you take requests?" I asked.
"Absolutely."
I told her my requests and she nodded, smile brightening. When I heard the first song begin, I rounded the circle to where Lyrica sat. She tipped her head to gaze at me with those dark brown eyes, and I realized how much she resembled Jacques. They shared the same vibrant red hair, gold-flecked eyes, and fiery spirit; but everything else in her was Barn or Rose.
"No dancing tonight?" I teased, tugging her braid the way Kurt had minutes ago.
"She shrugged with a slight smile, taking her braid in her hands and pulling it away from me. "Maybe later."
"They're playing a good one," I goaded.
"I know."
"What's stopping you?"
She shrugged again and Kitty elbowed her. "Go on," Kitty encouraged, pushing her up some.
"Non," she protested, laughing.
Kurt joined the prodding and tried to pull Lyrica up before poking her in the ribs and nudging her from the opposite side. After a minute of swatting hands and resisting persuasion, Lyrica gave in. "Alright! Fine!" she exclaimed, laughing.
I took her hands and helped her to her feet, spinning her away from the logs. Almost immediately, the music took control and she fell into the steps, clapping and twirling with the beat. As the song ended, the violinist caught my eye and smiled knowingly; I tipped my head to her and she flowed into the next song.
Lyrica didn't miss a beat in between and transitioned to the new steps with experienced ease. She spun and danced with the sharp grace and smooth precision that came from being a swordmaster but with the life and energy of someone her age. As the beat picked up, I was forced to stop and rest. The wound inflicted by Wolverine on the cliff had reopened twice that I knew of and I didn't want to reopen it a third time.
By now, she was enjoying herself far too much to stop. She pulled Kurt up to join her and began teaching him the jig that went with the song. He caught on and began to clumsily copy her movements. When he made a mistake or tripped over himself, they laughed together and began again. It didn't take long for Kitty, Megan, and Doug to hop to their feet and learn the jig as well.
Kurt backed out after he fell over a log and singed the top of his curly brown hair. Kitty was next when she ran out of breath, but Doug and Megan remained. The songs changed again and Lyrica pulled Doug aside to teach him the steps for a doubles dance. "Megan, get Kurt," I heard her say.
"No way," he said adamantly. "Fire doesn't like me too much."
Megan stuck her tongue at him but gazed quickly around the circle for a partner. When her eyes landed on Loki, she took hold of his wrists and hauled him to his feet. He was so startled, he didn't have time to complain or fight to be released.
Lyrica taught them the dance and Megan dragged Loki a few yards away to dance where they wouldn't trip anyone. Surprisingly, Loki complied and endured the duration of the song. When he sat again, Megan sank down beside him and he didn't appear as bored or disgusted as his expression usually suggested.
I hummed along to the lilting melody as I watched Doug and Lyrica. She was trying to show him another set of steps, but he was distracted, lost even. I didn't blame him- around Lyrica, it was easy to get lost. She was so comfortable, so confident, entrancing almost. If the boys weren't careful, they'd forget themselves hopelessly. Seemed like Doug already had.
I sighed and winced when pain shot across my side. Time to go, I decided, rising and walking away from the fire. With a last glance over my shoulder, I watched Doug lose his balance and catch himself again, laughing. I turned away, smiling. Maybe being here wouldn't be a bad choice after all.