Author's Note: Uncharted territory, here I come...
Rating: Kplus
Genre: general/angst/humor
Client: TheDonutMistress
Pairing: gasp! Relena/Trowa
Summary: Heero's gone off and fallen for a different blonde pacifist and I'm at the circus. One of those weeks, you know? Hey... I think I know that clown. And I don't mean Duo.
Masks
By: Mazzie May
"Oh. Damn."
Duo summed the situation up perfectly.
It was all he could say when he found Heero with her.
And it was how he expressed his regret and sympathies when he found out I didn't know.
"Oh. Damn."
Yes, that sounds about right.
I don't know what I'd expected. In the beginning, I'd been swept away by his world, their world. It was a nice place to visit, I guess, but ultimately I couldn't stand it and did all I could to pull Heero away from it. Show him there were choices amongst all the orders, that he was a person, not a tool. I succeeded, too.
In a way.
He embraced his ability to change, to choose. He demonstrated it by deciding to… not change and to continue following orders. If that wasn't frustration enough, I finally find him falling in love.
With someone who isn't me.
Sylvia Noventa.
Again, I haven't a clue what I thought the outcome would be, but I can promise you I didn't even dream of this. With all my prying and molding and Heero's—to put it gentle—glorious lack of understand and people skills, it seems natural to assume that his first inklings of anything remotely resembling love would be directed somewhere near me. Really, was I wrong to think that? I don't think I was wrong. I don't feel wrong about it.
Strangely, I don't feel sad, either. Just extremely confused. Duo joined me for said confusion, with lots of, "huh…"s and "I… yeah"s. Duo also mentioned with quiet surprise that he never expected Heero to be the kind of guy to 'fool around', at which point I was forced to grumble with irritation that Heero and I never actually had anything solid. Partly because I chose not to see anyone else, but mostly because Heero had no one else.
Or so I thought.
Oh, well. Life goes on, as they say. Duo offered to find out more about them, but I declined. I don't want to know how long or what they're like together, because, quite frankly, I don't care. What they do, how they look, none of my business. It's Heero's life, it always has been, and that's that.
That would be my mantra for some time.
Not even a week after the news, I was giving a speech on Earth. I was tired and still a little depressed. The whole thing hadn't quite hit me yet. I was staring at the bear he'd given me. Don't ask me why I kept it. Not because I don't know, but because the answer is stupid. It's the only tangible thing he's ever given me and I wasn't about to toss it away. He could admit that he was the damned assassin of my own father and I'd still sleep with the teddy at night.
Anyway, I had been looking at the bear. I always thought that if the bear could talk, it'd be quiet. Looking at it then, I heard a sad voice. I set it down on the table in my hotel room and saw an events folder. Most of the suites I stay in have one. A nicely coloured, thin leather binder with upcoming social events and elite parties arranged inside. Things for me to do, stuff I might be interested in.
One flyer caught my attention. One for the circus. I heard of the troupe before, even in the higher circles, and they were spoken really rather highly about. I decided to go. Why the hell not, really. Everyone loves the circus. God knows I could use the cheering up.
God also has a sense of humor, as that week was featured a two-for-one special. Not only was a graced with Duo's presence, but Trowa's. Let me say this: I do not know Trowa Barton very well and I probably never will. But. What I do know of him, seeing him as a clown? I just about died in the stands. My secretary and guards looked a little nervous and I tried to reassure them, but it didn't work very well with my lack of air. My waving them off probably looked like flailing.
I managed to calm down enough to enjoy the final performance, which featured Trowa and a very pretty red haired girl. Just watching them move together gave me the impression they're close. I've decided that everyone is dating except me. A thought that never really bothered me until now.
Regardless of that, I arranged to go speak with Trowa after the show. He didn't object, but he didn't seem particularly happy, either. That's just like him, though; Heero determined, Quatre gentle, Duo happy, Wufei agitated, but Trowa was just blank. Like an old cat that knew it's place and how you were beneath it.
We walked quietly to his trailer. What's there to say, really? Hi, I don't know you much at all. Mind if I follow you as you leave to change clothes? Trowa, so blank and forward, as a clown is funny in itself, by the way. Not funny 'ha ha', though. More like funny 'oh, how sad.'
I felt a little foolish, inviting myself to follow him and not offering anything. The safest bet for these situations is to compliment one's recent achievements. I like your clown pants, where may I find a pair? No, that's no good. The second best option is to make a kind observation about the room you're in.
The whole walk I tried to come up with something. He's a clown who lives in a trailer at the circus. You find something nice to say. I know I didn't.
He opened the door and walked in, leaving me to come after. So, all the practicing of gentle things to say about a circus trailer were for naught. Seeing as how I lost all grace the minute I got inside.
"A green and orange boa?"
A lime green and florescent orange feather boa. All grace. Gone.
"It's not mine."
I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that I can count on one hand the time's I've thought, "Yeah. Right." This was one of them. I think he could tell, maybe it was my raised eyebrow and pout-like frown.
"One of the walkers has a larger wardrobe. Instead of buying her a bigger trailer, they stored the rest of her things in mine," he explained, totally deadpan, as he slid into the back to change.
Considering everything else I could see while I stood in the doorway, I'm going to believe him for the sake of my sanity. Amongst these things were a tiara, wands, more boas and a few parasols. It's not often that I feel my age and the immaturity that comes with it, but somehow informing Dorothy about my findings seemed very funny.
When Trowa stepped out from the back, I found myself a little disappointed. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had obviously seen better days. Faded, frayed, stained with something dark, I felt a little sorry for them.
"Thank you for dressing for the arrival of the former queen," I breathed with a smile.
His lips twitched I think, before he stood up beside me and reached around me. I blushed at his closeness, I'll admit it. It all seemed very storybook-like; a queen's heart broken by a nameless knight, finds herself in the arms of a harlequin. I blame the depression. He closed the door, saying, "I'll be moving the animals later. You don't wear nice things for that."
I felt like an idiot. "No, I suppose you wouldn't."
I looked around the room again. What was I doing there? I'm not a friend of Trowa's, I hadn't missed him and it's a safe best he hadn't missed me. For all I knew at that moment, he didn't even know about what had happened with Heero. I know we've spoken before, but I couldn't tell you where we were or what it was about. Far as I can gather, we've little to nothing in common.
Trowa might've been wondering the same things, but when I think about it, does someone like him 'wonder' at all? Whatever thoughts were in his head, I could still feel his eyes on me, like a heavy blanket. If he's looking at you, focused on you, it's like you're the only person in the world that matters. Duo said it made him nervous, but Quatre takes it as great comfort.
I sided with Duo. "I really enjoyed the show." Stupid? Yes. Desperate? Yes. Anything to get his eyes off of me.
He got the idea. He moved towards something that looked suspiciously like a vanity, but I wasn't going to comment. "Good."
There was a knock at the door and I jumped. He motioned me back a bit so he could open the door. I ventured over to the boas because there was so little room. And if he was going to be gone a bit, I planned on trying a few on.
It was the red haired girl. Wearing sneakers with no socks, short-shorts and a very hot pink bra. Oh, my. I've had to fight to keep my face blank before, but trying to keep it pleasant was an even tougher battle. Hello ma'am, are you aware that you're more than half-naked? Trowa, hand her a shirt. I remember Duo making some kind of comment about 'circus folk'. I really wished I remembered what it was specifically, since it was probably funny.
"Hello, there," she smiled at me with a little wave. Please, woman, go put some clothes on. I nod back, trying not to stare at her cleavage. She held her throwing knives in one hand. As she spoke to Trowa, I realized something was off about her eyes. I mean, it very well may have been the low lighting, but the red haired woman really looked as though she was lacking pupils. Like she was blind.
The knife thrower was blind. Good heavens.
Some people, I thought, turning towards the vanity. Trowa seemed as though he'd run with a strange crowd, but a blind knife wielding woman? I picked up one of the tiaras and turned it this way and that with my hands. Well, who was I to judge? Look who I run around with? A romanticizing warmonger for a best friend doesn't really give me too much room to criticize.
I busied myself with reading the propaganda pinned up along the wall as they spoke. The posters covered nearly the whole wall, from the door to the corner. Most of it was old promotional posters for the circus, all the acts displayed with an over the top art style. The paper was frayed and yellowy and rightfully so; some the dates listed set them back to when my father was my age. Every now and again, a ribbon dancer or female acrobat was featured as a pin-up girl--quite the hubbub back in the day. A real honor for a girl of fame.
Duo's voice suddenly piped up in my mind, smugly suggesting that a famous gal like me shoulda got pined-up a long time ago. I chuckled, running my hand over picture of a pretty ribbon dancer with dark, curly hair, all wrapped up in her ribbons, a sailor's hat on her head. Duo's so perverted and stupid, he just stays with you, that's all. I certainly don't want to be seen like this. Not on bit. Perhaps, if someone asked me… But, no I'd never volunteer. So what if only the most gorgeous of gorgeous get asked to participate? I'm not jealous.
My eyes drifted over to a blonde haired, green eyed acrobat and I thought of Sylvia Noventa, and yes, fine, dammit, I'm jealous. Being a queen and then a Minster of Peace doesn't really give you much time to focus on being pretty. Your goal is presentable, not desirable.
Trowa called out to me, pulling me away from my pity party. Bless him.
"I'm going to move the lions. I'll be right back."
"Take your time," I offered as the screen closed loudly. I counted to twenty by twos before moving over to the vanity-esque dresser. I wanted to make sure he was gone before trying on the tiaras. How silly would I look, former queen, giggling over cubic zirconium and nickel, as opposed to diamonds and silver?
Ah well. I had just fit a cute little thing with hearts on it comfortably around the braids—no, I don't know why I still wear them either—and was turning my head this way and that when I noticed something behind my reflection and to my right. The lighting was low, soft yellow, everything-is-hardly-distinguishable-at-first-glance low so I turned around and looked for it.
His mask. Or his half mask. I picked it up carefully and turned it over slowly. His half mask with no strap or hook on the back, so how does it stay on his face? My brow furrowed as I stared down at it. Now that is an interesting question. Doesn't seem to be any distinguishing features along the back molding, so it can't be a custom fit. "So how the heck…" I breathed.
I turned around and headed back to the vanit—dresser and mirror combination and prepared to put the mask on. I've always been fairly hands on. I don't see how else I was going to get an answer. Unless Trowa came back soon.
"Trowa how do you do your job? Is your face made of double sided tape?"
Yes. No. Definitely not.
The first time I brought it up to my face and let go, it clattered to the vani—dresser top. I quickly leaned away from the mirror and snatched the mask up as I turned to watch the door. I waited for few moments. No one came. I let out the breath I'd been holding, and faced the mirror again. The door's fairly loud anyway. I could about-face and put the mask down before anyone got all the way in, right? Right.
I tried a few different things, including the same trick you use to make a spoon stay on your nose. No successes. I turned my head this way and that, tilted it back. Nothing could get the damn thing to stay except for my hand. I had a whole new respect for Trowa: mask balancing. The tricks you learn in a circus! Damn it, Duo really did have the best line about circus folk, I'll always hate that I couldn't remember it.
"Hell," I breathed, catching the… porcelain mask? Ceramic? Ah, more unanswered questions. It just wouldn't have anything to do with me. And, of course, just as I decide the feeling was mutual, I turned to put the tricky thing away and found Trowa in the doorway, watching me.
I am a girl of politics. I spend anywhere from seven to twenty hours standing at a podium, yelling at men who have twenty, thirty, sometimes fifty years of experience over me, arguing my case and points. Debating the very fabric of why we're even there at all. Sometimes I win, sometimes I loose, usually there's a stalemate somewhere. For all my rebuttals, all my quick thinking, when I looked at Trowa's suspiciously amused faced, all that came out was,
"Hi."
"Hey."
That was it. That was all I got. I felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar and that's it. I stood straight, the mask still in my hands as he came in and closed the screen door behind him. My head tilted when he closed the heavy door as well. Not out of alarm or concern or anything. Just. 'Oh. Okay.' Maybe he did it out of habit, I don't know. He came towards me and I held up the mask, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my eyes and voice.
"This is a puzzle," I laughed a little. The sound helped the tightening in my throat to relax. He took it from me and turned to the mirror.
"There's a trick to it," he started, bringing the mask up to his face, beneath his hair. Trowa slowly pulled his hand away, shook his head a little. The half-mask remained in place. Even having watched him do it, I still don't know how works. I simply nodded and made an 'ah!' sound to fake sudden realization.
He took the mask off and set it on top of a stack of books on the dresser top. I glared at it a little. I'll figure it out someday.
"So," he began and I snapped my head back up. "What brings the former queen here?"
I shrugged. "Everyone loves the circus, right?"
Trowa took a seat on the plain cot-turned-bed and laced his fingers. He was looking up at me through his hair. "If you say so." It took me a second to understand what his tone was implying. I blinked at him and held out my hands like I was going to ward off his suggestion.
"I didn't this was your circus! I didn't even know you had a circus!" I dropped my arms and then brought my right hand up to hold my left elbow. "Honestly, I really didn't have any idea. I saw a flyer for the circus and decided to go. And then you came out and I thought 'hey, I know that clown!'. That was all."
"Is that so."
The tone was almost warm, but there was a lot of suspicion in his eyes. "Sorry for asking then," he said, sitting straighter and stretching. "I heard the Preventers were trying to recruit Gundam pilots. Thought maybe they sent you."
I leaned against the dresser and held onto the edges. "I take it your answer is a resounding 'no'?"
He was laying back, propped up on his arms. "I thought you weren't here about that." It might've been the light, but I thought he was smiling at me. Just a little.
"You Gundam pilots and your secrets," I jokingly sneered and shook my head to get the bangs out of my eyes. I don't know how he could stand to wear his hair like that. "Well for your information, no one told me Lady Une was looking for you guys."
"No one tells you anything."
"I know, right?"
I turn away from him then, pretending to look at the assortment of boas and parasols. I don't usually surprise myself. When I do, it's normally because I've done something I can be proud of. Not because I started talking like a seventeen year old girl. It didn't happen often and I tried not to think about what that meant. Mostly because I think that my father—not King Peacecraft—would be proud of me, but not exactly thrilled with what I've become.
The sudden silence was my fault, so I tried to break it. "I like your mask." In the end I was staring at it, it was all I could come up with.
"I think it's alright," and that made me smile. There was a hesitance on his side of the room and I turned to face him.
"You want one?"
"Uh…?" If I knew him better I'd say he was embarrassed, but I didn't know him better and I couldn't say for sure. I guess I stared at him with confusion long enough because he finally shrugged.
"Do you?" Alright, I figured. I'll play.
"Sure." I winked. "But only if you have one in pink."
To my absolute surprise, he stared thoughtfully off to the side before mumbling, "Actually… I might," and then stood, heading over to his right, my left. I stared at him as he dropped down his knees in front a trunk. Because he was just kidding. And I was just kidding.
Right?
He started using his thumbs to flick the locks up. The trunk lid made a great show of being heavy as he pushed it open, the small metal supports clicking into place to ensure it stayed open and didn't suddenly shut, crushing the person. I took a few steps towards him and looked over his shoulder.
Masks. I'd say hundreds of them, but I'm betting there's only about sixty. Only. I really didn't know what to say. Crouching next to him, I gently wrapped my fingers over the edge and found the inside to be lined with a soft, cushy material. He very gently began to rummage through, looking.
"This… is an amazing collection."
Weak, lame. You come up with something better.
The energy changed again, like someone swapped out the air for a different kind, and I got the feeling he was embarrassed again. "It's not by choice," he stated looking extra intently into the trunk. "When Cathrine and I were out shopping one day, I wandered off. I stopped to look in a store that had nothing but masks. That was it. That's where she found me." He lifted a mask that was a deep maroon colour, with gold dotted around the eyes and matching lips. The feathers were very pretty. He grimaced at it a little and said it to the side before digging some more.
"She thought I was looking in the store because I liked the masks. That's not true." His voice changed a little bit and I wish the lighting had been better because I thought he was blushing and I'll never be sure. "I just couldn't understand how the store stayed open, with that as its only product. That's all."
I looked away from him and into the trunk. I found a lovely white and black masquerade mask staring up at me. I lifted it up carefully. It was a perfect porcelain white with very intricate and ornate curls and lines surrounding the eyes. "So where do all of these fit in?"
"Ever since then, she's been convinced I was lamenting the things. Every where we go, she buys a mask for me."
I had set the white mask back down and pulled out a very oriental looking dark blue dragon mask with thin, gold streaks to outline the snout and teeth. I snapped around to look at him. "She bought all of these for you!?"
He nodded once, deep enough to be a bow. I quickly put the dragon back down. "Oh, Trowa, I can't take one then!" He gave me a strange look through his hair.
"Why not? I've been looking for a way to get ride of them. Even if you just take one, it'll help me out."
I gaped at him. "But still! You can't just give away things your girlfriend gave you—"
He burst out laughing. "Girlfriend? Sister." Then I felt silly. And uneasy. I went in here knowing he was with someone, and then I knew he wasn't and then I realized how close we were. It didn't matter, it shouldn't have. But I picked up a full purple mask with red and white designs criss-crossed all over it and hid my face. I didn't want him to see my blush.
Trowa cast me a look, a little bit of a smile left over from the laughter still there. "That one isn't pink."
"I like it."
"I'll guess I'll have to find one like that then."
And that's all there was for a little while. Eventually the red in my face drained and I started pulling out other masks, trying them on. The silence wasn't strained and for a little while I was having fun. I couldn't remember the last time I actually had any fun, and I certainly hadn't expected the next time I had fun would be in a nondescript trailer with someone I honestly didn't know—and by complete coincidence on top of it all.
He did have a pink one. Four of them, actually. I took one full one and the half mask. I had moved to the mirror to look at myself with them on. Removing the full mask and lifting the masquerade one, I said, "I don't know. I bet that shop does alright."
Trowa had finished putting everything away and was leaning against the dresser, his back the mirror, arms crossed. It took him a second to catch up to what I was saying. I dropped my eyes. Not his fault I launched that out of left field. "Oh yeah?"
"Sure." I held the mask up and covered my eyes, looking through the holes. "There's more than one use for a mask." I tried not to think of my brother when I said it.
I think he read my mind anyway. "Maybe so. You can hide more than your looks with a mask."
I lowered my hand, the smooth porcelain and soft feathers touching my neck. "So why do you only wear half a mask? Only have half a secret?"
He snorted at that, admiring his shoes for a moment. "Sorta."
I leaned my hip against the dresser, my arms folded, hugging the mask to myself as I leaned forward in curiosity. "Sorta?"
I think there's something wrong with me. He clearly wasn't volunteering the information and I was pushing it anyway. There's a difference between persistent and stupid, and every time I think I understand that—nope. I fall under 'stupid.'
Taking a deep breath, he held it before letting it out through his nose. "There are certain… things. That I don't want certain people to see. But other certain people can."
To be completely honest, I didn't expect a real answer, so I didn't really know what to say to that. "Oh," I tried, and then, "Which category am I?"
It was after the words were out of my mouth that I caught some of our reflection, saw that at some point we'd gotten a lot closer. When I brought my eyes forward again, it wasn't a trick of the light. We were leaned towards one another and he was… he was going to kiss me, I think? Or I was leaving myself open for one? I don't know, I couldn't tell.
I parted my lips to breathe, to say something, to prepare for the kiss, something. Trowa didn't know, I remembered from no where. Trowa didn't know about what had happened with Heero. For all he knew, things between us were the same as ever, and for all I knew, he was under the impression Heero and I still only had eyes for each other. And what I just said! How could I say that? What he must've thought me…
I leaned away. There was a small, low, sharp intake of breath from both of us in surprise. I wanted to let him to kiss me. I wanted to let Trowa kiss me and I think he wanted me to, too. I held the mask tighter to my chest and found that my shoes, too, were very interesting, while he relaxed against the dresser some more, arms still crossed, eyes closed.
I wonder if God decided I'd had enough uncomfortable moments in the last week, because there was a knock at the door, followed by 'Miss Relena? It's getting late.'
It actually took me a failed attempt to find my voice because I could answer.
"You better get going then," he said from beneath his hair.
I stared at him for a moment before averting my eyes and nodding. "Yeah, I… really should." I moved to take the door handle. What a night. I go to the circus and find out another Gundam pilot's day job, play dress up of the face, and then almost kiss someone I barely know. Dorothy was going to die when she heard about this.
"Did it help?"
The question surprises me so much I almost forget to stop and nearly crash into the door. I stumble a bit as I turn to look at him. "I'm sorry?"
He looks a little uncomfortable as he gestures around him. "This. Did it… take your mind off…" He trailed off and I just stared him blankly, not understand whatever the heck it was he was trying to convey—
Oh.
He was talking about Heero.
Oh. Damn.
A sharp prickling behind my eyes started and my throat tightened up. I glared at the floor. It had helped. I hadn't thought about Heero for the last hour or so, I was going to kiss someone who wasn't Heero, I was okay, I was fine and now I wasn't and finally after a week of confusion and mild disappointment, it was finally catching up with me.
And I felt completely defeated.
"How did you…"
He didn't let me hang. "Quatre. From Duo."
I dropped my head, knowing that someone out there hated me. I had feeling it was God. Duo had told me, why wouldn't he have told Quatre? And I guess Quatre and Trowa are friends or something? Everyone knew but me. The guy in the clown pants and a traveling circus knew before I did. That was such a different level of unfair.
Right before the first tears fell, he took hold of the wrist that was connected to the hand that held the full mask and lifted it to my face. When I blinked at him, it stung. My make up was getting in my eyes.
Trowa didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. I got what he meant. And he was right. I nodded once in a way of thanks. I couldn't find my voice, and he understood. Mask still on, I turned back to the door. His grip didn't tighten, he just didn't let go. I froze.
"We have two more shows here," he said. I think he meant you're welcome to come back.
My 'thank you' was kinda muffled. I meant it on a lot of different levels. I think he got that. I hope he did. He held my hand for a second more and then let it go.
He got it.
I rode quietly back to the hotel, wearing one mask and fiddling with the other.
--
Masks have multiple purposes. They can be for fashion, something that accentuates an outfit or brings out the eyes. They can be secretive, hiding something dangerous or interesting. Or they can be personal, worn for reasons only known by that person—my brother, for example. In my case, I use mine defensively, trying to hide and smother a weak moment.
I don't think Trowa knows why he wears is mask anymore, just that he's unsure who to take it off around.
I went to those other two shows, and after each one, we had hours long conversations in his trailer. Sprawled on the floor and on the bed. Wearing masks. I even got Dorothy in on it too, when we stay in the same hotels. I'm thinking I'll put mine away when I stop crying so easily. I'm not entirely sure what it'll take to get Trowa to remove his.
But I do know I hope I'm there when he does.
If only to not lean away from that kiss.
Author's Note: I feel in love with this idea almost two? years ago XD I never got around to finishing it until now. And this goes out for TheDonutMistress, who's curiosity for even more curious pairings opened the door to this fun little world. I was snooping around the site, just to be sure no one else wrote anything like this, and found that the couple actually had a little bit of love. Way more than Heero/Sylvia, that's for sure XD Poor kids. Ah well. All's well, and all that. I hope you all enjoyed!
R&R please, comments and concerns are always appreciated!