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He wasn’t kind, he didn’t have the freedom to do as he always wanted. This didn’t mean he was cruel, however, and he strove to be fair. He watched as everyone failed the same lessons he had once failed. Creatures made purposefully imperfect, striving to be perfection for a careless creator. The sins of often not of their own making.
Tamara had died at the hands of an angry boyfriend. She had dared run. Tried to protect herself as best her broken mind could figure out how to. She had trusted him to protect her, just as she’d trusted many before him to protect her, going all the way back to the twisted figure that was her father. She was made a sinner through no effort of her own. She was made weak by too much abuse and too little hope. Still, her last act had been one of desperation. A yearning to live.
So she’d been brought to the Devil’s Carnival with John. It wasn’t often that Lucifer felt he should interfere directly. Still, three guests, and of the three two of them were desperate, not evil. Not even bad, really. Even if John hadn’t been there, though, he’d have come for Tamara. Still an infant in comparison to the millennia he had been in existence, but all of her existence was filled with pain and fear and a desperate longing to know something good.
Too trusting, said God. The Frog, like many women before her, and she was given to the Scorpion. Lucifer watched it play out as he knew it would. She went with the Scorpion because she knew his character and she was clinging to anything familiar. Too afraid to break away and be different. The knife sunk into her chest and her eyes closed once more. Two deaths in less than twelve hours.
She needed to simply just close her eyes and stop fighting. Stop trusting and being as God created her to be. And yet, she could not. He had watched this story play out so many times, and yet … there was an accepting sort of sadness in the back of her eyes as she woke up in the cage once more. Her future looking to be as one of the woe maidens, working there in the Carnival with the rest, and yet …
“What do you fear?” He asked, his voice soft and commanding as Tamara opened her eyes and found herself standing on a small stage, lantern in her hand.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?” She asked, eyes on the man who was more a smudged shadow in the dim tent.
“No it isn’t,” Lucifer responded.
“He killed me, didn’t he?” There was that steady, sad acceptance in her eyes again. Like she had always known what would become of her. Lucifer didn’t respond. Tamara lifted the lantern, trying to see him, unafraid of perhaps the thing she should fear most.
“What happens now?” She continued, her arm slowly lowering.
“You go to bed, Tamara.” Lucifer informed her, the sound of the ocean crashing down as all of the lights went out.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” She called, raising the lantern to fight off the black the woe maidens entered, bringing in wooden waves as music started. She had never heard the song before, but she knew every word, and the shadow of Lucifer sang with her, slowly standing and coming forward.
Now he circled her and she didn’t follow him. This was a song of helplessness. When you are not your own, because you are a thing that belongs to another. Not even a real person. The white gown she wore was innocent in a way she hadn’t been since she was a child. He sang with her, his voice soothing in a way it had no reason to be. The Devil felt her pain, he saw her. The song continued. Again and again and again, a plea for mercy that would never happen.
They ended up in Lucifer’s room, his fingers warm and strong pressing her wrists against red silk. She offered him all of her, anything not to leave her to her own dreams, and she meant every word of it. It wasn’t one of his lessons, this was all this young woman with a soul made old and weary. He removed his hands and pressed a finger to her forehead, watching her collapse onto his bed, fully dress. She would sleep without dreams, he could do that much.
“Is she an addition or a passer by?” The Ticket Keeper asked, his voice just as somber as Lucifer felt at the moment.
“I don’t know yet.” The devil admitted, watching her for a moment longer before heading to his makeup table.
“She can still be saved.” Ticket Keeper reminded the other fallen angel, his voice understanding.
“Can she? Would God ever understand the pain that is never going to leave her? Does he understand that beauty of his creation?” Lucifer asked, always willing to talk to Raziel when he didn’t feel he could speak with anyone else. Who else understood his pain but another who had fallen from grace?
“I think she can. A perfect victim looking for her savior.” Raziel offered, standing ten steps behind his brother, magnifiers on his eye, watching the other in the mirror.
“Saviors aren’t supposed to look like demons.” Lucifer reminded the other as he began removing his makeup.
“Good thing you were made beautiful.” Raziel reminded the other.
“Those days are long since past.” The being slowly beginning to look more human.
“The only one she hasn’t been the least bit afraid of is you. Has that ever happened before?” The other asked, already knowing the answer and simply waiting for Lucifer to acknowledge that he was correct.
“She can be saved.” Lucifer responded evenly.
“She could be safe here.” Raziel replied, his voice just as even.
“For now she can have an act. We will see what happens.” Lucifer’s blue eyes strayed to his bed, to the young woman collapsed across his sheets.
“The sweet prize for those who think that is all a woman should be. A sweet foil to Scorpions hard edges.” Raziel stated immediately, having already thought of it. This time Lucifer’s eyes went back to the Ticket Keeper’s, hard at the mention of Scorpion. He didn’t make an declarations, though.
“See to it.” The Devil agreed shortly.
“And the girl?” Raziel glanced at the bed and back to Lucifer.
“She will find you when she wakes.” Lucifer waved a hand and Raziel bowed before turning and leaving the rooms. The Devil himself turned, lounging in the chair and watched the woman, his face neutral and his thoughts chaotic.