Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fic title: Golden Filaments In Fair Design

Author name: Kelleigh

Artist name: Vorpal Pen

Genre: Supernatural AU

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: Adult [for graphic sex and some violence]

Word count: 38,500+

Warnings: Alternate Reality. You can either trust me with the rest of the warnings [since I think knowing could ruin the story] or go here for more detailed warnings [spoilers for the fic] and explanations.

Spoilers: None for the show.

Summary: Samuel, an orphaned boy, lucks into a life he could never have imagined, one full of wonder, magic, and love. Fate sends him to a couple with a traveling show, and growing up amid the strange and beautiful performers is everything he’d dreamed. His childhood is happy, but as an adult, Sam becomes ever lonelier and develops two distinct personalities. There is the shy, helpful young man who avoids social company, but there is also the charismatic and seductive artiste, first inspired to perform by a green eyed stranger he meets one night by chance. When the stranger - a man named Dean who seems oddly familiar to Sam - becomes a very real force in his life, Sam learns the other man's deep secret. Dean too is living a double life - one Sam would have never expected and that leads him down a road of magic and discovery. Written for the 2009 Big Bang challenge.

Link to art: Art by Vorpal-Pen

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, no doubt you have seen and heard many wondrous things in this theater - dazzling acrobatics and daring feats. You have been amazed, impressed and, dare I say, shocked! But, dear audience, I invite you now to be taken away. I can guarantee that here today you shall witness an act so splendid, so sensuous; it will steal your breath away. Some have called it the greatest act extant; others say it will melt your heart. I promise you this, dear people, that if you open your hearts and suspend your disbelief, you shall be forever changed by what you see today.

And now, I give you...

Love.

In a small, dark corner of a small, dark room, Samuel dreamed.

This young boy, only eleven years old, dreamed of what all orphans wanted: a home, friends, and a family to call his own. But for each year that passed at the orphanage, these dreams seemed further and further out of reach.

Sam had strange dreams too: far away places and unfamiliar faces. They were fantastical, new worlds to explore in his mind's eye during the night. He learned to keep them a secret after the matron called him "overly imaginative" but made it sound like a curse.

There were plenty of girls and boys, some staying longer than others. Those children who left him alone - who didn’t trip him in the hallways or make fun of his habits – they were his friends. He’d tried many times to make friends with the animals on the grounds, but even the squirrels seemed uninterested in the overly tall, whipcord boy.

Young Sam knew he didn’t fit in, though the orphanage drew children from many walks of life. Being parentless was all they really had in common. The story between the matron and her staff went that his parents simply disappeared, leaving behind the aloof and coltish boy who spent most of his time watching the rest of the world through his dingy window. Sam knew very little. Perhaps his mother and father had gotten lost on a great journey across the continents, never able to return for their young boy. Or, Sam wondered, they could have sailed across one of the great Seas and been swept away in a torrent of wind and rain. Whatever the truth was, no one knew it.

One fateful day during the heavy heat of August, Sam spied a round sort of man pushing a cart filled with boxes down the sidewalk. He jumped up from his seat on the lawn, intending to warn this man about the uneven pavers, but it was too late. The cart tipped, spilling several boxes over the sidewalk and onto the grounds.

Shy but ultimately kind, Sam rushed over, picking up cartons and barely noticed their weight. Neither did he notice the man’s regard; the stranger watched the child reload his cart exactly as before, even though the boxes were awkward and heavy.

When the task was done, Sam smiled timidly and started to run back to the orphanage.

Curious, the stranger called after him. “Young man, what is your name?”

Sam stopped and turned, unused to anyone wanting to know his name unless they wanted to express displeasure or annoyance.

“Samuel, sir. I only wanted to help when your cart tipped, I should have warned you about the sidewalk.”

The man let Sam stammer through his explanation, listening with a smile until the boy began to apologize profusely.

“Samuel. Sam?” He gentled his tone. “You misunderstand. I want to thank you for your help, not reprimand you.”

The boy’s eyebrow raised skeptically.

“I mean it. You have done me a service. Do you live here, Sam?”

He was confused by the numerous questions the dark haired man was asking, but answered. “I do, but so do lots of other orphans.”

“And I doubt many of them would give aid to a stranger as you have,” he laughed jovially, his round belly shaking with chuckles, and surprising Sam. “But please forgive me, I neglected to introduce myself. My name is Benjamin Montgomery, but you may certainly call me Ben.” He reached a long arm out to Sam who hesitantly returned the handshake.

It was rare that a stranger took such interest in Sam. Most men and women coming to the orphanage passed him by in favor of less awkward children: the girls with ringlets and bows and the boys with ruddy cheeks and eager smiles. Sam found he didn't want to part company with the man just yet. Diversions and friends were rare in his life.

“Where were you going with all this stuff?”

“Ah Sam, I’m glad you asked,” and Ben did sound gratified. He opened one box and Sam peeked within to find brightly colored costumes – hats and accessories of every shape and material. Another contained paper flyers with bold black ink declaring things like ‘magical’ and ‘wondrous’ in curved calligraphy.

He couldn't contain his curiosity. “What is this for?”

“Well, Sam, I have a traveling show. Have you ever seen one?” Sam shook his head. “It’s small, but entertaining and draws suitable crowds wherever we stop.” Ben lifted one of the flyers and passed it to the boy. Sam's bright eyes flitted over pictures: a woman dancing, a man in a tuxedo, and various animals. It all looked and sounded perfectly intriguing to Sam. However, there was disappointment in his gaze, knowing he’d never see anything so magnificent.

Ben was a keen sort of man and could see the emotions crossing Sam’s face - awe swiftly replaced with regret. This young boy had made an impression and Ben was fascinated.

“Sam,” he began inquiringly while meeting the boy’s eyes. "Do you think you could take me inside so that I may speak with your matron?”

“Why?” The wariness quickly returned.

“Listen to me, Sam,” Ben tried to soothe. “My troupe is small, just starting out, but we are a family. I think that perhaps, if you wish, you should join us.”

Used to tricks and teasing, Sam did not believe Ben’s generous offer. “You want me?”

Ben smiled sincerely. “I think you’d make a wonderful addition to our family.” He couldn’t miss the twitch of young Sam’s lips at the mention of family. “It would be a home, Sam, though likely a strange one, and whatever else you need it to be. My wife and I can tutor you, take you across the provinces, and give you honest work if you'd like it.”

“Work?” Sam was already made to clean rooms and scrub hallways – he abhorred chores.

“There are plenty of things to do with a traveling show, Sam. Nothing too trying, dear boy, a child should be free to run and play and learn! We have animal acts...would you like to help care for the horses and our clever ferrets? How about learning to help with the acrobatic acts? Or the magicians, they can teach you such wonderful tricks!”

Ben was painting such a vivid picture that Sam’s heart started to ache. His dreams had always shown him a colorful life beyond the bland brick walls of his orphanage. He wanted so badly to be a part of what Ben was enthusiastically describing but he still held back.

“Do you have other children?” Sam wasn’t well liked and he was afraid things would be no different with Ben’s family if he suddenly intruded on their lives.

A flash of sadness crossed Ben’s face, enough for Sam to catch. “Unfortunately no, my wife and I have none. There are a few members of our troupe with their own children, so you would never lack for friendship.”

He doesn’t mean to look relieved, but Ben noticed.

“So what do you say, Sam? Would you like to join my family?”

“I think…” Sam stuttered, trying to be as polite as he could manage, even when his mind was spinning and he could barely contain his joy. “Yes, sir, I think that would be agreeable.”

“Ah!” Ben laughed exuberantly once more and Sam flushed, completely unused to being overwhelmed. “Excellent! Now, I think you need to introduce me to the matron of this establishment and we can get things in order.”

He led Ben inside after securing the cart on the grounds. The severe and sallow-faced matron was displeased to see young Samuel, who was an obvious blemish in her ordered life. No doubt she assumed the worst when he appeared in her office with the stranger. Perhaps he had upset the man: stolen money or insulted him. She was taken aback when the portly gentleman asked to adopt the young boy while smiles transformed their faces as if they shared some grand secret.

Sam could hardly keep still long enough to listen as Ben explained his situation and desire to have Sam join his family. The matron glanced over at the young boy, expecting him to decide between his mysterious new friend and life at the orphanage where he was surrounded by normal children and adults who wanted little to do with him.

In the end, Sam's choice was obvious.

He didn't look back after he packed his small bag and walked away with Ben, eager to start a new life.

In the stories Sam could remember, traveling troupes of men and women - beautiful, talented, and exotic performers – appeared and disappeared into the country mists like mystical beings. The shows these groups staged were small but drew crowds wherever they journeyed - their intent to break the monotony of a hardworking life yet never to linger in any one place.

As Ben and Sam made their way from the orphange to the fairgrounds in the neighboring county, the older man regaled the boy with short, exciting tales of his time amongst his company, but those stories did little to prepare Sam for what he was about to see.

It was a sight unlike any Sam had seen before. The brightly colored banners and painted trailers looked out of place in the drab, dry fields. The caravan formed a semi-circle of protection around a stage. Massive spider webs of rigging and metal beams formed a cover against the ochre sky. Compared to the dull edifices of the orphanage, Sam was instantly enthralled. Ben was quiet and allowed Sam to take everything in as they stood motionless in the brown grass.

People of different sizes and shapes – all striking and magnificent – milled about, weaving between trailers and talking with one another. When Sam finally forced his legs to move, Ben walked with him to one of the large trailers where a tall, statuesque woman waited. Catching sight of young Sam, her hands flew to her mouth and her gasp was audible even at fifty paces.

Getting closer, Sam could see her eyes filling with tears that were quickly wiped away, yet she still looked overjoyed.

“My wife, Jackie,” Ben whispered as they approached.

They could not have been a more oddly matched pair - the round, cherry-faced Ben and the stately, elegant Jackie. But as her hands dropped, the young boy could see that the couple shared the same smile. Their grins were wide and kind but both possessed a twist of mystery. Sam instantly forgot the constant parade of eager parents-to-be from his former accommodations where, in all his years, no couple had ever approached him.

Jackie knelt in front of Sam, matching his height. He realized his mind had wandered and he’d missed Ben’s introduction.

"And young master Samuel here agreed when I asked if he'd like to join our family."

"Sweet boy," Jackie's voice was smooth and pleasant to hear. It was the kind of voice Sam imagined belonging to a queen or heroine from his fairy tales. She certainly looked the part - brown hair thick and smooth, olive skin nearly flawless and blue eyes that sparkled. "You have no idea how much this means to us, having you here."

She extended a hand, such grace even in the small movement, and Sam reached out.

"I promise, Sam, you'll love it here and I will do everything I can to make growing up with us such a wonderful adventure."

To a child like Sam, kindness had come little or not at all. Feeling the truth and eagerness in Jackie's words, Sam was struck with warmth in his heart. He did not know then to call it love, but it was wondrous all the same.

Jackie guided him to sit beside her on the wide steps of the trailer as Ben stood and watched. Sam's hand was still twined with Jackie's, their long fingers clasped together as if both feared the other might up and disappear. She spoke quietly, pointing out people and objects and places. Sam did his best to pay attention but there was so much.

When Jackie finally paused to ask what Sam would like for lunch, he answered quickly and without thinking.

"Anything but tuna fish."

He feared for a moment that his reply was too insolent. Jackie clapped her hands once and laughed.

"Are you sick of tuna fish, Sam?"

He swallowed nervously, but Jackie silently encouraged his honesty. "We had it every lunch at the orphanage, ma'am."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, you never have to eat it ever again. How about I have Ben warm us two bowls of his delicious corn chowder?"

Sam beamed. "That would be fine, ma'am."

"You never have to call me ma'am, dear boy," she explained, nudging Sam with her elbow. "Jackie is just fine."

"Thank you, Jackie," he tried again, stomach fluttering when he was rewarded with a nod and a grin. "Chowder sounds good."

A girl with brightly colored hair – strands of green and purple and pink mixed in with blonde – passed them by with an older woman and waved, delighted when Sam shyly waved back. She yanked at her mother’s hand and pointed to him, but her smile was bright and genuine.

And Sam could finally feel that yes, this would be home.

For over seven years, Sam led a charmed life.

He was free to explore as he pleased for the first few weeks. The performers and workers knew who he was - gossip spread quickly through their small community when Ben and Jackie eagerly shared their good news. Sam was welcomed by all; he wandered in and out of trailers, shaking hands and receiving kind hugs.

Each night, their quiet field would fill with an audience, wide-eyed faces watching as the acts took to their modest stage. Sam sat with them as often as he could, hands clenched in the dry, autumn grass. Like the rest of the audience, he was enraptured watching the artistes and musicians. Half of Sam's time was spent observing the crowds while they were dazzled, catching the glee and wonder reflected in their eyes.

When the troupe packed up and left those fairgrounds a few weeks after Sam joined them, the young boy sat in the front seat of Ben's trailer listening to him describe where they'd be going next.

"Have you ever been outside the territory, Sam?"

He shook his head, mouth filled with one of Jackie's oatmeal cookies.

"We'll come back of course," Ben continued, "probably in the spring. But for winter, the South is still much better."

"What's it like?" Sam didn't remember ever leaving, but his early years were hazy at best.

"It's warmer, certainly! There's none of this bitter wind or the will-it-won't-it-rain cloudy skies."

"Greener, too." Sam craned his neck to hear Jackie who sat comfortably behind them. "It'll be another adventure, Samuel. More things you've never seen before. Are you excited?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Sam grabbed another cookie from the napkin on his lap and turned to face out the window. The entire caravan drove behind them, so his view was not obscured. In the days that followed, the Montgomery’s trailer led the way through increasingly greener scenery, sunlight glinting off the morning dew and reflecting rainbows in Sam's eyes.

For years, the troupe followed a vague pattern, winding their way through territories. There were favored venues, communities that looked forward to their arrival year after year. New courses were plotted and Ben was always on the look out for thriving areas. He was willing to cross the entire continent to bring their entertainment to new audiences.

In those endless days of wandering paradise, Sam thrived; he saw and learned more than he could have ever imagined. With Ben and Jackie’s encouragement, books and lessons were abandoned early and most of his 'education’ focused on the ways of the troupe.

By the light of the hazy, violet sunrises, Enrique and his small crew taught Sam how to scale riggings and swing from beams against the open sky, eyes drawn out as far as they could see. His hands became rougher and stronger as he learned how their stage was assembled and dismantled in each new location.

Roger, the wizened old gamekeeper, showed Sam all he knew about the animals that traveled with the troupe. The young boy spent days at Roger’s elbow learning how to care for the equestrienne's horses and the large, finicky cats that were "trained" by the comedians. Sam was glad those creatures found him more appealing than had the squirrels from the orphanage.

When Ben and Jackie (though it was mostly Ben) insisted on a dab of actual tutoring, he went to Galen, the troupe’s illusionist and all-around savant. At first, Sam was skeptical – Galen looked like the strict task masters from his former school days – but he soon stood corrected. Galen, one of the troupe’s older members, never passed up the chance to expound on his scholastic endeavors and Sam was easily lost in his vivid and varied tales. Adding to his early schooling, Sam learned mathematics, grammar, and the histories of the territories through which they passed.

Their lessons were often interrupted by good natured banter between Galen and his husband Dustin, whose slight frame and average appearance masked one of the most beautiful voices Sam had ever heard. Sam would sit, amused as the two men bickered, both winking at Sam when the other wasn't looking.

Galen and Dustin also made sure Sam was tutored in less common subjects: the best methods to barter with street vendors in Havlan, why it was never a good idea to argue with housewives in Norlasco, and which distilleries crafted the finest ‘shine in the northern provinces. The latter Sam did not understand until he was older, but he appreciated the lesson all the same.

The mischievous blonde imp with the rainbow locks trailed after Sam like a curious kitten, skittering behind crates and corners whenever he turned around. For weeks she was his constant shadow. Katie was her name, Jackie said, and she was only a little younger than Sam. The girl finally found her courage when Sam tripped over the steps of his trailer. She stood nearby and giggled when he attempted to right himself.

“You’re clumsy,” she’d pointed out. There was no hint of cruelty in her words, just childish honesty.

“Your hair doesn’t match.”

“I know,” she twirled on the spot, greens and purples fanning out in the sun. “Isn’t it the best?”

Sam didn’t know about that, but he nodded anyway and Katie was placated. From that first unremarkable introduction they became inseparable, teasing and taunting one another at every opportunity and banding together to torment the rest of the company. It was strange having such a friend; Katie never cared what they were doing, be it making wildflower chains or digging rocks out of dried riverbeds, and neither did Sam so long as they were together.

Katie was supposedly learning to dance. Her mother did makeup for the troupe’s performers, creating exotic looks to transport their crowds, using nothing more than brushes and colored dust. She was endlessly frustrated with her daughter’s lack of focus. Katie preferred dallying with Sam though he tried his best to coax her back to her lessons, knowing full well her mother’s heart was set on Katie becoming a true artiste.

After some time, Sam stopped watching every performance; he already knew the acts forward and back. He craved activity after his lackluster days in the orphanage, so Ben set him to taking tickets each night, collecting coins and faded bills. Katie joined him soon enough and Ben began paying them. Earning money sparked something in Katie and the two started to pool whatever they earned, everything stuffed in an old slipper beneath Sam’s mattress.

“We can buy a castle someday!”

Sam wasn’t sure if castles even existed so he tried thinking smaller. They were combing through the grass where their audience sat the night before, pocketing all the small coins and trinkets they found.

“Or we could buy a trailer.”

Katie’s face scrunched in distaste. “Why would we get a trailer? We already have those!”

“But one day we might want one of our own.” It made perfect sense to Sam. Nearing fifteen then, he often woke cramped and crunched in his small bed in Ben and Jackie’s trailer.

“Oh,” is all Katie said. Her hair was entirely pink that month, clashing with the burnt olive grass. The idea stuck with Sam though, and he would venture to bring it up some other time – most likely when Katie was in a spat with her mother and threatening to run away again.

Life in the caravan agreed with Sam. He grew tall and strong – ‘handsome’ in Jackie’s words but a ‘giant oaf’ in Katie’s. Even in his wildest dreams, while he had slept in the small, institutional cot so many years ago, he could never have imagined his life now. Ben laughed and called them a ‘proper family’. Sam didn’t really know what that implied but he loved what the three of them built together.

Ben remained kind and generous, just as he’d been when Sam met him. He ran his troupe with enthusiasm and skill and was loved in turn by his performers and workers. He encouraged Sam to explore – playing and learning to his heart’s content - and Sam was always willing to work in exchange for that freedom.

It was Jackie, however, to whom Sam grew the closest. She treasured the boy – her Samuel – and became a true mother. He sought her out when he cried, pestered her when he was bored, and sat with her for endless hours just to listen to her talk.

When they traveled or when there was no show, Sam spent his evenings with his adoptive parents. He preferred quiet nights with Ben and Jackie over the larger community dinners. Cavorting around with Katie and slipping treats into their pockets was fun, but Sam liked meals with just the three of them. Jackie would cook and they’d watch old movies on the faded television screen.

Ben had a passion for the old films, buying up boxes of the black cassettes from market dealers and pawn shops whenever he could find such antiques. Before being adopted, Sam had only ever seen the occasional news broadcast from remote stations still able to use their battered, leaning antennas. Most news spread through travelers, shared by journeymen moving amongst the provinces. But the movies Ben brought home were fascinating. He enjoyed all the comedies, dramas, and grand romances playing out on the small screen. If he found one he particularly enjoyed, he’d swipe the cassette from Ben’s collection and watch it with Katie when her mother was out. She didn’t seem as mesmerized by the stories of love as Sam was, but she watched them anyway, willing to share her collection of sweets.

The only things remaining from Sam’s previous life were the dreams. Some were wonderful, similar to the dreams that filled his early years, and they showed him strange places and people he wanted to recognize, but couldn’t. Warm looks, a full heart, and happy days wrapped Sam in his sleep, kept him peacefully in his imaginings until the morning chimes.

Others were terrible. Sam’s pillow bore the marks of clenched teeth from when he would wake up screaming, quickly silenced before Ben and Jackie could hear. As if his senses were playing tricks on him, Sam would wake up able to see, hear, and smell what he had experienced in the nightmares. But fortunately, the visions and the sensations faded with the sunrise and were soon forgotten.

Regardless, Sam was as happy as he’d ever been. He couldn’t know how his life compared to that when his parents were alive, but he rarely considered such things. Eventually he stopped being able to recall anything of the years before the orphanage. Those memories faded and he didn’t remember enough to ever miss them.

The first performance after Sam turned eighteen was set upon the gravel flats on the outskirts of Hallemere. Sam could stand and imagine the land as it used to be when there’d been nothing but grey dust and stone for miles, filling the air with choking bits of rock. Now the earth had begun to reclaim her continent. Low trees sprang up from even the smallest gaps in the hard earth. Grass, too, had managed to grow where there was soil surrounding colorless ledges and boulders.

Sam wandered away just as the stage lights dimmed for the entrance of Carmina, the “Voice of the Heavens". The glen he came upon was bathed in pale yellow light from the full moon and Sam expected it to be empty, but a lone figure was illuminated in the center, balanced on one leg and appearing like a mythical woodland statue.

It took him a moment to recognize the long, graceful limbs and serene countenance. Jackie. She looked absorbed, meditative, and took no notice of her son's approach. She was lost in a strange routine of strength and balance. The movements were captivating and Sam certain Jackie had done this before an audience. Her techniques were practiced and assured.

Sam had never brought it up, but his mother rarely watched the nightly performances. She would slip away as the opening acts were announced. He always assumed she had other matters to attend to in the running of the company but perhaps there was another motive altogether.

Quietly stepping forward, he watched Jackie bend and pose, holding each new attitude for a time. He didn't know this woman, this artiste. Sam had no idea the human body could perform in such ways - displays of artistry and physique more than mere acrobatics and dance. Her lithe muscles seemed sculpted as if with a craftsman's eye. This was art. Watching her drills, Sam could almost envision an imaginary partner moving in accompaniment with Jackie.

His mother could easily be a featured act with this type of performance, yet she lingered here, displaying her abilities to the clear, dark sky and unknowingly, her audience of one.

Distant applause made its way into their secluded glen as if given solely for Jackie's performance instead of the public show. His mother finally stood straight and spied Sam crouched low and still. She pushed her hair away from her face and immediately the mood changed. Sam was no longer faced with the intriguing artiste - only his beloved caretaker.

"Samuel!" That name belonged only to Jackie - not even Katie dared to call him that unless she wanted Sam telling her mother how little she actually practiced her dancing. "What are you doing here?"

An explanation didn't come quickly to Sam's lips; he was mystified by the changes he had witnessed in Jackie.

"Why aren't you watching the show or helping Rique?"

That question was easier to answer as Sam had been dodging shows since his fifteenth summer.

“Katie and I sold tickets tonight then she went to help her mother." He shuffled his feet nervously, kicking up dirt and gravel. "I came out here to explore."

Jackie accepted this with a nod. Her body relaxed and she moved to sit on one of the flat boulders. Before she could speak, Sam stammered ahead without thought.

"Why aren't you a part of the show, Jackie?" Her blue eyes snapped to his. "What you were doing, it was amazing! You were better than the hoofers or Carmina; I bet you could be our feature-"

"I know, Samuel."

Sam couldn't miss the sadness in his mother's words, the deep weariness covering old wounds. He stayed quiet, waiting for Jackie to compose herself and step out of the glen.

"I think you're old enough now," she eventually sighed. "Come with me back to the camp."

Sam loped along beside her, his own long limbs on the wrong side of awkward. Since last summer he'd hit a seemingly unstoppable growth spurt, bones stretching painfully almost overnight, and Sam hadn't gotten used to his new body. They cut between trailers, avoiding the main stage and booths where performers and spectators could walk and mingle, sampling rich foods and drink between acts. Laughter and applause followed them, but the pair didn't stop until they were back in their trailer.

Jackie disappeared behind the rear partition, returning with a soft-cornered box and settled beside Sam.

"You used to have an act, didn't you?" The suspicion fell from Sam's lips.

"Ben told you how we met, right?"

Sam related the familiar story. "You came to a show he worked on and eventually joined to help him."

His mother shook her head, voice soft as if she feared someone might overhear. "I was already with the troupe when Ben joined our stage crew. I was barely past my twentieth summer and I had a joint act with another artiste."

When Jackie opened the box, Sam saw faded bills and black and white photos, but the images didn't hold a candle to the living spectacle Sam witnessed in the glen. Jackie, paired with a male partner, was easily recognizable even pictured so much younger.

"Jacqueline DuBois?" Sam read from the photograph’s printed caption

"My given name and the one I used for performing. I changed it to Jackie when I married Ben and stopped doing my act." She sighed. "I trained with my parents when I was young, learning their act before my partner and I made it our own."

"You should have seen her, Sam."

Ben's voice startled them. The open metal door behind him let in the mild evening air as he stood on the threshold looking at Jackie with a soft expression.

"When your mother was on stage no one could take their eyes off of her. It was artistry and grace at its finest."

"Why did you stop?" Sam's curiosity overwhelmed his rational mind. "If you were good, then why-"

"Dreams change, Samuel." Jackie's smile was forced. "Ben and I wanted to start our life together. He'd just taken over management of our troupe and I did what was best for us."

Ben sat beside Jackie, holding her hand within his, and didn't add to her story. Sam knew there was more to it but he trusted his caretakers to share the rest eventually. Perhaps it had nothing to do with Sam - perhaps they were not ready. His eyes were drawn back to the aged playbills; the lines of Jackie's poses were beautiful even on the yellowed papers. He was fascinated by the picture his mother and her partner made, and wanted to see more.

"Jackie," Sam finally ventured, focused on the brochures, "can I - do you think I could learn to do this?"

"Oh, Samuel." Her expression shifted immediately. Anticipation, surprise and apprehension all warred within her eyes. "I don't think I'll be able to-"

"In the glen, you were perfect. You could teach me!"

"Sam-"

"Jackie," Ben interrupted, squeezing her hand. "I think this may be a good idea."

"Ben, what if-"

"Sam," his father turned to him. "Do you want to learn to perform?"

He didn't really need to consider. "Of course!" Sam had never felt this kind of excitement thrumming through him. "Please Jackie. I know you can teach me to do this." He didn't even know what yet to call it.

Sam waited while Jackie silently debated, looking at Ben and wringing her hands. When she spoke, her voice seemed distant.

"You're going to grow handsomely, my Samuel."

Sam didn't know what place the wistfulness had in his mother's tone, but it was unmistakable.

"You'll be a beautiful man and so many will come to watch you. I know you will enthrall and bewitch them." She stopped and seemed to shake herself from a trance. "It will be work, Samuel, hard work. But I'll try to pass on everything I can."

He hugged her then, throwing himself into his mother's arms as his mind raced. Ben stood watching with tempered amusement. Before that night, Sam had never considered performing in their show, always content to share in the successes of his family and friends, helping wherever he could. But there had been something in the way Jackie moved; his entire body yearned to achieve that kind of agility and refinement.

Sam couldn't wait to begin and he said as much to his parents. Jackie had banished all traces of sadness and presentiment and she laughed good naturedly at her son's gaiety, telling him that they could start as soon as the show moved on from Hallemere.

"But that's over a week!"

She was not swayed by Sam's pout. "And there's work to be done here that can't be avoided, Samuel."

His face fell but Jackie quickly grinned to soften the blow. "That does not mean there aren't things you could be doing to prepare."

Sam leaned forward eagerly. "Like what?"

In the days that followed, the show moved on from Hallemere and Sam dogged his mother's steps. His mind was constantly filled-to-the-brim with questions and he felt compelled to ask them all. Jackie was patient and answered what she could: the ways Sam needed to train his body, whether or not he needed a partner, and if he actually had to be made up with kohl and rouge like the other artistes.

In the months that followed, the troupe left the Northern territories once more for the warmer Southern climates. Sam developed an ordered routine much to the chagrin of Katie's free spirited nature. At each new location he worked with Enrique. The hard labor made him stronger and taught Sam to use his limbs and developing musculature in coordinated effort as he tried to banish the awkwardness of youth for good. His long hours under the Southern sun browned his skin and while Katie - blue and yellow tresses then - made fun of him, she was always willing to rub soothing lotion over his reddened shoulders.

Sam ran every day, sometimes ending up miles into the desolate wilderness through which they traveled. Katie, eager to help when it wasn't requisite, started instructing him on various forms of dance and ballet. She laughed herself into frenzies at first as she led Sam through simple choreography, but he was soon able to master whatever she shared.

Jackie, well aware of her son's goals, watched with hawk-sharp eyes and guided as she saw fit. The pair nearly disappeared from community life. Sam threw himself into every kind of lesson, taking each of Jackie's instructions and pushing his body to its limits. As the long days drew on, Jackie was more and more impressed with Sam's progressing abilities.

In the years that followed, the Montgomery Company grew larger as Ben allowed new acts to join their traveling band. The troupe eventually sought new audiences and the show began an ever more westward course. It took them closer to the cities, the low-sprawled industrial centers Ben had avoided for so long.

Anticipation ran deep throughout the troupe. Cities meant larger crowds and more time in one place - more income in return for their efforts. But with those advantages came the realization that cities held an all together different kind of society - one that thrived in dark alleys and ramshackle buildings. The company only passed through the Western provinces when needed - restoring funds and picking up fresh acts.

The closer they got, the more the mood of the company shifted. Nerves were heightened, excitement held in every bated breath. Galen and Dustin told stories while the youngest gypsies listened to tales of places they had never seen or were too young to remember.

And within the traveling community, a treasured boy transformed into a beloved man. Sam grew exactly as Jackie prophesied - handsome and strong, beautiful in his passions. He had yet to perform but he bided his time, knowing he would feel when he was ready. Each day, every new mile they traveled, brought him closer. Sam waited, he knew not for what, but he was patient.

It would come.