[i]Ping![/i]

The tablet. The tablet! On the chair. Out of reach. Where he put it down. One and two and stop! And, and, grip, and, go. Past the lock screen. (First try. No hesitation.) Hold it close. Messages. Eclair!

A…photo? What was…

Oh. She [i]didn’t-![/i]

(Alas. A world so narrowed could never dream this was only the first surprise. A boy stands utterly defenseless, and the coup de grace falls.)

The sound that fizzles against her finger is startle and jolt and blooming delight. The ear her breath tickles can’t decide whether to shoot stock-still or wiggle itself silly. She spins him, and his eyes can’t keep up, and his ears can’t keep up, and his thoughts can’t keep up, and the face he greets her with shines brighter than any starlight. Here, or anywhere.

Eclair Espoir. The Violet Flash. Currently the Mystery Builder. A hero of Thellamie. 

Wow. 

(And the world has a solid bit of ground to stand on. A familiar bit of ground. A place of peace and safety, built over many nights reading impossible letters, and feeling the words inside of him bubble up until he had to spill them out in a letter of his own that was much too enthusiastic. A fact which he could only seem to discover the following day, and yet never managed to stop her from writing back.

He’s not out of it yet. But now there’s hope. Just a bit.)

Right. That’s enough fretting and moping about. A bit late is better than sniffing out the nearest service entrance and spending the rest of his life as a gremlin living in the backroom rafters. (That wasn’t actually his Plan B. Just a goof. Not important.)  There’s a ball to attend and an outfit to pick. Focus up, Hazel. It’s time to get stuff [i]done.[/i]

……………………………………………………..excuse me Miss Mystery Builder could you? Repeat that?

No. No, hrm. He did hear her properly. Probably? Probably.

Wait, no, what is he doing? Of course she might not know everything. Maybe very few people know everything. He [i]has[/i] been spending a lot of time in very Golden Faun-centric places recently. Bit of a biased perspective there. And besides, shouldn’t a detective make sure she has all the facts straight? Something like that. Anyway, point being, there’s no reason to make a fuss, they’ve only got ten to fifteen minutes, better stick to the short version.

“Right! Yes, okay, so: I’m the Golden Faun. Not the one from the older Heron stories, but a new one. Civelia was,” too long! Cut it! “Well, no, sorry, long story short, the stars gave a prophecy that whoever will,” and he knows this bit by heart. There’s even a ring of raven in his voice as he repeats, “‘Claim him! Tame him! Prove that he is yours!’ - will be the next Queen of Light. Then they made my antlers start glowing, and, then everyone started hunting me. Only, a lot of them didn’t care who or what they had to go through to get me. So Civelia gave me this amulet,” and he produces the miraculous thing from around his neck. It has never left his person, not once. “Which let me decide what the contests to win me were going to be, and I decided a ball was much more orderly than a hunt burning down half of Thellamie.”

You know, when he puts it like that, it’s almost like the last few weeks have been a bit wild, huh?

Ah well. One foot in front of the other, Hazel. 

“The problem is. Um. This…is the outfit they picked out for me.” Oh. Oh right. The outfit. The outfit for him. The outfit chosen specially for him. His outfit, which he is wearing, in front of Eclair. And has been wearing this whole time. Maybe it isn’t too late to pursue a career in rafter goblin-ing after all? “And. It’s. Nice of them to do so, but, I don’t, I don’t think it [i]really[/i] suits me.” (Everybody is going to laugh at him. There’s going to be a long, long pause where everyone is waiting for someone else to ask for the first dance. They will sit with him, and it will be out of obligation, and it will be to make sure their enemies don’t get him first.) “Which is fine! But, there’s so many options, I don’t know what to pick instead, and, I think they said I was on in two minutes, and I’m pretty sure it’s been more than two minutes. So. I wanted to see if you had any ideas? If that’s okay?”

A pause. A breath. A clap of the hands together.

“Oh, and: It’s really good to finally meet you too, [i]Mystery Builder.[/i]” No goofs. No winks. Eclair is working in deep cover (what was that about a wanted criminal?) and he knows what’s up. Her secrets are safe with him, no worries.