The Innocent pulled his blanket up under his chin, curling into a comfortable ball on the small bed. The Trickster had created the small room for him when he had first arrived and it was cosy and warm. His kite took pride of place on the shelf on the wall but now sat next to a recent addition. Rowan's yellow helmet shone slightly in the dark. The kind lady had let him wear it and he had loved it so much she had given it to him. He smiled and hummed to himself. He had seen the sadness in her that day in the park but also the kindness of her heart and the strength of her spirit. He had been sad before he came to Kooza so; using the skills that the Trickster had taught him he had summoned her. Granted it wasn't exactly a smooth operation but now she seemed happy...so he was happy. He snuggled further into his pillows and blankets and sank into sleep.
The Trickster stalked the lower floors of the Bataclan. Around and above him the inhabitants of Kooza slept soundly. He curled his gold stained fingers in the shadows feeling the slight resistance of the darkness, like silk between his fingers. He paused suddenly as coldness prodded the edge of his consciousness. He concentrated, head tiling to one side causing the bells on his head dress to tinkle sweetly. Someone was having a nightmare. He heard movement above him and sunk back into the shadows as footsteps began coming down the stairs and Rowan appeared. She wore her flame retardant tunic over the blue vest and shorts that he had provided for her to sleep in. For a moment he considered jumping out and frightening her but the expression on her face made him pause. For the first time since she had arrived she looked vulnerable. He watched as she padded, barefoot, out onto the stage, completely oblivious to his presence. Silently he followed. Rowan stood in the middle of the stage, still as a statue in the bluish night time light, then she dropped her tunic to the floor and began to dance. Her movements were slow but strong and she glided across the stage. Soon quiet music began to drift to the Trickster as he watched, the tune slow and melancholic. Kooza only responded in this way to strong emotion and this music was the sound of heart break. He felt his own heart, usually so aloof and oppose to shows of emotion, lurch as Rowan completed a series of spins and turns before reaching out into the darkness as if trying to pull something to her as tears spilled down her cheeks. For a moment she didn't move and then her head dropped. In the silence, her breathing was loud and shaky as she fought back the emotion that pained her chest, then a quiet crackle sounded from her discarded tunic. Rowan sighed.
"Its not polite to spy on people," she turned to the Trickster as he stood a few feet behind her. He raised a questioning eyebrow and she nudged her tunic with her foot, exposing the crackling radio. She gave him a weak smile,
"Its my Trickster detection device...I don't like surprises"
To her amazement his expression softened and his lips curled in a small smile, the first sincere expression she had seen grace the colourful face. He approached her slowly but stopped when she folded her arms across her chest. For a moment they studied each other before Rowan pick up her tunic, draping the heavy material around her shoulder. The Trickster was still watching her, but his expression had changed. He looked...concerned? Rowan gave him a polite nod,
"Goodnight Trickster," she took a step to move past him but his hand came up, cupping her cheek. Rowan stopped dead with surprise as his thumb gently brushed the tear marks on her skin.
"Why do you cry?" he said quietly in a voice like velvet as he stepped closer to her, so close in fact that she could feel the heat of his body and had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. Rowan stepped back, severing the contact.
"Oh so you do have the ability to speak?"
"Why do you cry?" he asked again.
For a moment Rowan looked as though she was going to continue to avoid the question, then she sighed.
"Too many memories"
"Good or bad?"
She looked him in the eye then,
"Both"
He caught the tension in her voice and decided not to pursue this course of enquiry...for now. Instead he gestured to the stage,
"That was beautiful; you have a talent for movement"
Rowan snorted, lip curling. The Trickster moved around her before reaching out and spinning her to him, dipping her as she gasped.
"I mean it," he breathed, "you should do more"
Rowan pushed him away,
"No"
"Why?"
"I don't dance anymore"
"I just watched you dance, it was -"
"I don't dance anymore...that was a lapse. I don't have time now"
The Trickster folded his arms,
"Time?"
Rowan through her hands up in an exasperated gesture,
"Yes time, not all of us can live life prancing through alternative worlds and having a laugh"
Anger flared in the Trickster's eyes,
"I create life"
"No, you create impressions of life. The only real things in here are me and the kid...I save actual people, I save lives," Rowan countered, "speaking of which I need to go back, I have a job to do and my colleagues will be worried about me. I want to leave first thing in the morning, I'll say goodbye to the kid then"
Trickster sighed as Rowan stormed past him. This was not going the way he had intended. He went to stop her when pain, sharp and white hot lanced between his eyes, blinding him. He felt his energy drain from him as his legs began to buckle.
Just a short one...I know where I want to go with this I'm just not sure how to get there! Any suggestions? Anyway I hope you enjoyed and thanks for the reviews. I'll update soon!
