Chapter Text
#"O-*Oh*!! -OW!"
"*HOW DARE YOU*???!!"
"*Good sir, CONTAIN YOURSELF AT ONCE*!!"
"'Contain myself'??! -Begging your Majesties' and Highness's pardon, but HE is *an IMPOSTER*!"
"*No*!!"
"His TRUE name is 'Garcon de Cendres', and he's been *a servant in my home for the past three years*."
"-A *servant*, Sabina???! Is-a this some kind-a *of JOKE*??! If-a it is, then I am-a NOT AT ALL-a laughing!"
"...Lord Malfoy, you are on *MOST DANGEROUS ground*!"
"*Ask him yourself*, Your Highness! He's a *GRASPING DEVIOUS LITTLE PRETENDER*, and it is MY DUTY to expose him as *the COVETOUS HOAX* that he is!"
"I- He- You- *What*??? Geppy 'cheri', tell zese men who you are. T-*Tell zem*...!"
.....
"'MON DIEU'... *It cannot be true*-!"
"BOW BEFORE ROYALTY, you vile insolent little fraud!"
"G-Geppy??"
"...G-Ge- *'Geppetto Caspari' was MY FATHER*. I- I- *I am what he says*...!"
"-*Ze apple*. That was- *That was YOU*?"
"I- *I can explain*-!"
"Well-a, SOMEONE *had-a BETTER*!!"
"First, *you are ENGAGED*- and now you're A SERVANT???! -*I've 'ad enough*."
"N-NO!! S-*Sabina, PLEASE*!"
"*Do NOT* address me so Informal, 'monsieur'. I am ZE PRINCESS! *And YOU*? Are JUST. *Like. ZEM*. All zose- LECHEROUS FORTUNE-HUNTERS...!"
"N-N- *NO, 'amore mia'*! I'm- *I'm not*...!! I sw- *I SWEAR I'm not*!"
%"'Finate Incantatem'!!"%#
Just before Pinocchio could either try and plead his case further, fully burst into a flood of tears, run away, or do all three, there was a cracking 'SNAP', three voices chanting something he couldn't really make out, the ballroom and royal dance itself faded away into thin air, his fine beautiful clothes and cleaned-up-nicely being became dirty and ragged and WOODEN and *animal-featured* once more... and his *TRUE memories* came back. Hit him HARD like a slap in the face or whip-lash to the back. It was *Jiminy Cricket his faerie godfather whom he loved*; *NOT the Princess Sabina* as THEY supposed/believed/'knew'!! *JIMINY* whom he desired to hold and be held by, kiss, andonedaymarry...!
*All of THAT* had been but a WAKING DREAM. *A very realistic fantasy*. *A very good ILLUSION*- a top-notch *MIRAGE*. *A cruelhorribleawful spell having been cast upon him* once more.
-This time, none of them said a single 'blessed' thing. *THIS time*, they all just LAUGHED. Laughed and laughed and laughed loud, long, and wicked. Cackledhootedwhoopedsnortedshriekedroaredhowled at his crushed anguished 'ugly' face- the hurt heartbroken tears yet again brimming and shimmering in his big blue orbs for eyes- his lowered donkey ears and matching tail- his small scrawny bruised scarred frame- his tattered threadbare clothes- *the soot and ash cruelly magically affixed to his now-wooden hair and skin*...
His apparently being *FAR FROM worthy* of loving 'Princess Charming' or being a Prince himself, in their hard cold meanmeanmean eyes either silvery-gray or steel-blue. Because NO ONE could *EVER* love or *LEARN TO love* a 'worthless dirty little house-elf' or 'homely little puppet' or 'filthy useless ash-clod' anymore than one could a *Beast*...!
They LAUGHED *and LAUGHED* and *didn't stop* laughing even as they once again made for The Ball and left 'Garcon de Cendres' behind. Pinocchio *triedtriedTRIED* to hold the 'waterworks' back- to *have courage and be kind*- to JUST IGNORE IT/THEM ...but once again as on The First Night, 'povere' Little Woodenhead dissolved into tears and wept as though his *heart AND SOUL* would not just break but *SHATTER*. This time right by where part of all the more-than-trouble had begun: the hearth in the living-room, now currently lit with a not-cheery-but-still-awful-nice 'little' fire rather than gone cold and ashy.
"C-Come- '*Come mai*'???! Wh-*WHY*??! Why do they *ALWAYS* d-do this???!" he choked out in a sobbing mewling keen. "Wh-*Why does makin' me cry make them smile 'n laugh*?? Pr-Prac- P-Practically make them- them-!??"
He ALMOST finished that sentence, but Pinocchio was too good and innocent and sweet of a boy to do so- to either spit or choke or sob it out aloud, his simple tender soul as clear and blue as his eyes ...so he just said it deep within his heart and mind as he painfullymiserably sobbed and sobbed on his knees and into his shabbily-gloved hands, tears pouring from his eyes and both oozing and flowing down his literally-ashy cheeks of white pine.
'*Why does causin' me SO MUCH PAIN in any way possible practically make them CLIMAX/ORGASM*...???!!'
"*Meeei-aow- mrrrow! Purrrr*..."
Suddenly, just then, an awful familiar yet NOT sound pierced and caressed his long grey wooden toy-jointed ears at the same time, jolting and gently nudging him out of his dark miserable thoughts at the same time- just after something small-to-tiny, silken-soft, and slightly bumpy nuzzled his side and hand. It was the attempting-to-be-comfort meow and purr of a cat, 'si',- but *much DEEPER, HOARSER, AND LOUDER* than he'd ever heard *even Figaro at his most cantankerous* concerning the former sound...
This time, though, unlike last night, Pinocchio didn't start- he just gulped and sniffled as he slowly lifted his dark once-fluffy little head and removed his hands from his face. -And then, he couldn't help but STARE at this *BEAUTY* standing right before his eyes and now meowing more softly as well as still purring away. -For 'twas a *very RARE AND SPECIAL* breed of cat known as a 'Siamese cat' or 'Thai cat' the color of fresh cream all over save for all four of his-or-her dainty delicate paws, their long lithe tail from base to tip, and practically all over his/her face that was adorable and elegant at the same time, which were a dark chocolatey brown, a lean lithe *almost otherworldly* gracefulness that made even lovely delicate Cleo look rather clumsy and awkward in comparison, and large almond-shaped vividly strikingly blue eyes! -An awful rare special *NON-STRAY Siamese cat*, he saw, given the *GORGEOUS* gold-and-jeweled collar gracing their refined svelte neck... but then, if that was the case, *what on Earth was he-or-she doing here*???
-Still, as when it came to *ANY cat* who was even just a little bit friendly and sweet, his heart melted and warmed despite its' shattered bleeding state, and he couldn't help but smile just a little. "O-*Ohhh*... H-H-Hello!" he sniffed quaveringly as he (futilely) swiped at his eyes.
He could have SWORN that the lovely lovely foreign lord-or-lady in a fur coat ever so slightly *smiled* at him as they 'nyaahed' a warm affectionate yet regal "*Why, hello*... Good evening!" in return ...and maybe her/she had. Perhaps she was not just a noble or royal pet, but a witch's or faerie's familiar... (Little did he know that to a point he was right!)
"Y-You're- *You're BEAUTIFUL*..." 'Pinoke' murmured near-worshipfully in awe and wonder while gently petting the Thai cat's sleek soft short fur as demanded/asked. (He'd hesitated at first, not wanting to possibly offend, but had instantly caved when those big beautiful enchanted sapphires for eyes blinked, opened extra-wide, and pleaded '*Pleeeeassse*, sweet nice pretty boy?? I WANT YOU to pet me...!') "The prettiest cat I've EVER seen next t' Figaro, Cleo, 'n Giddy-! Are- Are you a lady, or another g-gentleman?? A-Are you *a PRINCESS*, or a KING?"
The *VERY handsome* exotic feline trilled and chirruped at the word 'lady' -PREENING at 'princess'-, which answered his question- his next one of course being a soft shy, "Wh-What's- What's your name, y-Your Majesty?"
In response, the Siamese gently thrust out her creamy furry breast, displayed the small star-shaped tag of pure silver attached to her lovely splendiforous collar, and made it lightly jingle and tinkle almost akin to a tiny silver Yule or fairy bell while 'nyaah'-ing and purring. Pinocchio leaned down to take a closer look, gently took hold of the just-as-pretty little silver name-tag after asking and being granted permission to do so, and read aloud, "A-Y-E-S-H-A... 'Ay-YEH-sha'?? 'Ay-*yee*-sha'?"
She growled a little and fervently shook her 'pointed' queenly head at the first guess, but meowed soft and sweet and raspy and approvingly nodded it on the second one as her lovely eyes lit up and seemed to *sparkle* as much as shine in the firelight and glow in the dark.
"O-Okay- '*Ay-YEE-sha*' it is, th-then...!" Pinocchio laughed softly in already-beginning fondness and affection. "H-H'lo, Miss- Imean, *LADY Ayesha*- it's- it's nice t' meet you. U-Un- *REALLY unexpected*, but- but still awful nice... Wh-What're ya doin' HERE, 'bella dama'?? Are- Are you lost? D- Do you, your- your p-pet, or- *or BOTH* need Help??"
Ayesha first meowed in her signature hoarse deep raspy 'nyaah'-ing way then softer and quieter combined with a purr while nuzzling and rubbing her face and head against Pinocchio's gently caressing hand as if to say, '*No and no and no*, we are Just Fine ...but thank you most kindly for asking, all the same.'
"*Awwww*...!! You are just- so very A-DOR-A-BLE, 'Nocchi 'cheri'! That- That was and is *so SWEET* of you to ask whether or not Erik's lovely precious darling *Ayesha* *and/or HER OWNEE* was alright, when you were crying your 'jolie jolie' eyes and not-just-BROKEN-but-*SHATTERED* heart out just a couple of minutes ago, poor sweet wandering child so lost and helpless with a *VERY SERIOUS problem* and pleading eyes with All the Sadness of The World also as much as 'pauvre merveilleux bien-aime' Erik once so wretched and unhappy...!" a sudden *UN-familiar* male's tenor voice soft as silk and smooth and golden and sweet as the purest most fresh honey cooed from behind the mirror over the mantelpiece, NOW making Pinocchio start, jump, gasp, tremble a-new, and begin to feel a little afraid despite how *genuinely kind and tender and caring* its' owner sounded. The *then-SINGING* helped, yet didn't, same as Ayesha's smiling purring petting-herself company.
~"*Sweet child-
Poor child*...
*So TRAGIC*-
So MISUNDERSTOOD...!
*Dear child*-
SAD child,
Life's looking, shall we say,
*NOT GOOD*...
Tsk- *alas, NO*...
-Who will ease your woes and worries??
Who can further help you *get your man*???
*Ahhh, SWEET CHILD*...
Perhaps LE FANTOME'S LOVER can...!
*He too* knows your Dreams-
He as well will help you GRANT YOUR PRAYER;
He'll cast just *a TINY SPELL*
-A Charm-
WHY *the ALARM*???
There is *NO harm*!
NO ONE will Tell,
*No one will CARE*-
'Tis *YOUR OWN affair*...!
*Sweet child-
Poor child*-
*DEAR child*-
SAD child,
Friend Raoul has come to your aid
Right here and now...!
In but *in an hour and half*,
You and your faerie prince
Will *be RECONCILED*-
Be soon TOGETHER *FOREVER*,
-*Sweet child*..."~
It sounded- *CREEPY*, HYPNOTIZING (as in bespelling/mesmerizing). Silver-tongued both ways... But somehow, Pinocchio could tell that this 'Friend Raoul' *meant what he said/sang*. That despite the strangely weirdly eerie haunting trance-like tone of his sudden song, he was being SINCERE- *GENUINE*. That he too followed The Golden Rule as well as possessed a golden throat...
So he repossessed his courage same as still holding onto Kindness, swallowed hard, licked his lips, coughed to clear his throat, and tried to ekke something out- but couldn't quite manage it. So instead, *he himself* sang soft, sweet, shy, and nervous.
~"Angel or 'innamorato',
*FRIEND* or PHANTOM-
*Who is it there staring*...??"~
"A *friend*, darling- a FRIENDLY 'fantome'. *An ANGEL*..." the other elder male voice half-spoke half-sung assuringly and kindly. "I SWEAR I mean you no Harm or Mischief, 'petit' Pinocchio...!"
With that stolid assurance, NOW Pinocchio was able to speak. "Th-Then, if- if you can come out from wherever you are, w-would you please do so??" he inquired nervously still, not able to then help emitting a soft quiet gasp at the *WARMTH* and SOFTNESS and *sweetness*- *the FEELING* of this 'Raoul's' smile. Like Jiminy's yet not...
~"Flattering child,
*You SHALL know me*-
See where in shadows I hide...
*Look at your face in the mirror*-
*I am THERE INSIDE*..."~
Curiously, bemusedly, Pinocchio both sat and stood up, instantly doing as he was told. But just as his swollen red teary blue eyes met with beautiful slightly deeper darker yet more vivid ones *so softwarmgentlekindfriendly*, their reflections about to *LOCK gazes*-
There was a sudden flash of bright blue-white light so sharp and strong that Pinocchio actually cried out in pain as he HAD TO turn away and shield his eyes so that he wouldn't be blinded either temporarily or permanently paired with a sweet yet semi-loud tinkling ringing chime of ethereal music (Ayesha hissing and spitting and closing her own eyes shut tight as she arched her back and folded/lay flat her ears, poor thing)!! Coming from *the MIRROR*- from *this 'Raoul'*-
Thankfully, the painfully bright flash of 'lumiere' didn't last long (only a couple of seconds)- and true to how he Felt, 'Friend Raoul' began instantly apologizing almost the very moment he was in the room with Pinocchio, Ayesha, and a very worried concerned watchful wary Figaro, Cleo, Sofia, Lampwick, Mr. Coachman, Honest John, and Gideon plus four familiar little grey mice and a couple of friendly lentil-plucking woodpeckers, whom had all heard the sudden unexpected other commotion and had immediately rushed to either the window or from the kitchen where they'd been hiding into the room itself.
"*Oh, 'Mon Dieu'*!! I'm- I'm so very sorry about that, 'mon cher doux petit amis'! A-*AWFUL sorry*, as you say and your own dear beloved warm gentle father used to say, from what Jiminy tells me and Millie and Mamma and Papa! Are- Are you alright, Pinocchio and Ayesha??"
The latter slowly relaxed now that the 'danger' was over and immediately jumped up into 'Friend Raoul's' arms and demanded some making-up cuddles, pettings, and kisses *right here right now* ifyoupleaseandthankyoukindly, and the former little by little ceased to tremble as he let his eyes crack and slide open once more. He didn't quite STARE AT F.R. as he had the Baroness/Duchess/Princess/Queen Ayesha, but he still certainly took a *GOOD LONG look* at him from up to his head from down to his foot.
He was tall, slim, lithely-muscled, fair-skinned, and very very handsome like all of the Malfoys- blond same as Stepfather Lucius and stepbrother Draco, with *LONG hair* like that of 'Patrigno'/Lord Malfoy, and possessed blue eyes as Theodore did... but where they were as hard as stone and frigid as an iceberg, MR. RAOUL was as warm and bright as summer or spring sunshine. A male Persephone or Psyche if not Apollo or his son, with thick lustrous just-below-shoulder-length locks the color of either fresh honey, purest gold, or the sun itself rather than anything close to pale/silvery/platinum, beautiful *warm gentle friendly* eyes more sapphire or the sea instead of steel or ice, and smooth silken skin tenderly lovingly kissed by the sun in three ways (a semi-faint tan all over, a brush of rose at his cheeks, and a dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose), any edges that he himself possessed solid yet softened...
He looked to be either no younger than eighteen or older than twenty-one... and *he too* had WINGS! Bright blue glowing sparkling wings like both Jiminy's and Emily's, but with a slightly ragged *FEATHER-shaped* edge of his own despite being shaped like those of a butterfly AND a faerie according-to-stereotype- and he also *held a wand*!! This one beautifully crafted of gold and crystal and shaped like the bow of a violin- more than likely owing to the violin-shaped case slung over his slender-yet-strong shoulder on the left...
Not only all of that, but he possessed *slightly glowing* TURQUOISE-BLUE highlights in his longish golden hair and was dressed like- like- Well, a knight in dashing shining *SILVERY armor* of old. Complete with *MASK*, strangely enough...
The kindness and merry companionable twinkle in his eyes- the warmth and sweetness of his smile; they were all *so FAMILIAR*...
Just barely, Pinocchio then remembered his manners. Flushed, coughed, dipped his eyes, and shyly lowered his ears before mumbling just loud enough to be heard, "Y-Yes. 'Si'. I'm- 'm alright. Th-Thank you."
"Oh, Dieu m- *Thank heavens*!" Mr. Raoul sighed in sweet blessed relief- to such a degree that Pinocchio could tell had he not had his arms full of lady cat, he would have actually wiped his forehead. "I DIDN'T want or mean to almost hurt you- God knows you've had *QUITE ENOUGH of* THAT already...! *I didn't mean to SCARE YOU, either*, earlier," he added with a rueful repentant pout. "'Awful' sorry *for THAT*, too! I just- I just- My- My feelings came out *in SONG* instead of regular ordinary speech, and I... *CREEPILY emulated* Erik as either 'O. G.' or 'Musikkens Angel' in trying to be an angel/friend myself despite wanting to be *nice and comforting*, DARN IT-!!"
'Mamma mia', but he was *so like* MR. MANOLO that the two handsome sweet musical young men could have been *TWINS* despite their vastly different hair-colors, eye-colors, complexions, and ethnicities...! It comforted and assured Pinocchio a bit more and made him smile- made him feel more comfortable around the strange-yet-familiar blue-eyed blond Fae. Again, *if NOT* for his arms being full of feline darling, then Pinocchio would have just tossed all caution and wariness to the wind and bounded forward and HUGGED Monsieur Raoul in order to *cheer HIM* up, because right then he dearly looked like HE needed one!
-But he *did NOT* want to disturb or upset Miss Ayesha, so instead he stepped closer, reached out and upward towards Mr. Raoul, and softly gently patted/rubbed his shoulder instead while saying kindly, "It's- It's okay, Mr. Friend Raoul! I- I forgive ya... I know that you didn't m-*MEAN TO scare me*. You were just- You were just tryin' t' be sweet 'n friendly 'n kind, and- and *you WERE*! *You are*! It just- kinda came out differently In Practice..."
Mr. Raoul's smile *SHOULD HAVE been blinding* as a result- but it thankfully wasn't. It just made Pinocchio feel warm as warm, like he was standing in the sunshine on a fine balmy day. "And you *wonder why* I call you 'sweet child'..." Then the sun was clouded over as he pursed his lips and his own blue eyes darkened while he muttered both indignantly and angrily, "*'Quel est leur probleme avec vous'*??!"
Whether the Malfoy family would have eventually come into Pinocchio's life or not, one of his childhood and adolescent lessons had been the French language (courtesy of Senor Xibalba, who was also of Gallian and German descent as well as both Hispanic and Italian), so he well-knew what Monsieur Raoul had just said: 'WHAT *on EARTH* is their problem with you??!' He swallowed hard and blinked against the fresh coat of tears brimming anew- then he gulped, "I... don't know. B-But *I WISH* I knew...!"
Once again, Mr. Raoul's smile was both kind and sad as he stretched out one hand and gently petted 'Little Woodenhead's' currently ligneous dark bangs same as though he were lovingly stroking and caressing Lady Ayesha in an affectionate yet heart-tugging *BROTHERLY way* he had not once ever received from either Draco or Theo- then he used his other plus a nice silken handkerchief to just-as-lovingly and tenderly dry Pinocchio's face and eyes once Ayesha had relocated to the handsome blond's shoulders. "Ahhh, 'mon petit', IF ONLY I could grant *THAT wish* which troubles and torments you so... but, alas, I cannot."
He. Was. SO. *AWFUL nice*!! Felt *so familiar* in a way both Manolo-esque and Jiminy-ish (and a la *Miss Emily*, even)... "That's- 'S alright, M-Mr. Raoul. It's- It's *th' THOUGHT* that counts, wh-when all's said 'n done!"
"*Just so*, 'mon cher' 'Nocchi," Monsieur 'Friend Raoul' nodded in complete agreement. Then he straightened himself upright and adfixed cheerfully with again-sparkling shining eyes, "However, *I AM able* to grant your other wish as Jimmy can't right now because Fae Courting Rules and all that! Like sweet darling 'Dame Papillon' Millie did last night and dear dear Mr. Conscience Jimmy did The Very First Time!"
It finally fully dawned on Pinocchio right then and there, and he felt almost *STUPID* for not having realized it before as he gasped and started with wide-blown eyes and his heart thudding in his chest. "Then you're- You're- Wh-Why, then- *you must be*...!"
"Your beloved-both-ways 'parrain de la fee's' *OTHER long-lost sibling*??" Mr. Raoul finished both brightly and kindly. "*That I am*, Pinocchio 'cheri'! I was once the Viscount and youngest member of the de Chagny family, but I am now 'merely' Raoul Patrick Hadley Cricket, and *much happier* for it. -STILL *the BABY* of the family, though!" he then blithely shrugged and huffily pouted at the same time. "Oh, well...! At least Jiminy's *TRULY nicer* and doesn't mind my being around Little Lotte and vice-versa."
Pinocchio dearly badly wanted to ask who this 'Little Lotte' mentioned just now and 'Erik' earlier were, since they seemed so very near and dear to the sunny in both looks and temperament former noble's heart, but he held his tongue and bit the words back. Mr. Raoul was here *For a Reason*, after all- same as Miss Emily last night since he and his faerie godfather were in the process of COURTSHIP rather than being simply platonically close! And he shouldn't *DISTRACT Jiminy's brother*...
He could ask questions *LATER*, if he was able!
Mr. Raoul seemed to be of the same mindset as he lightly shook his head at himself then said brightly/kindly to 'the practical house-elf', "Shall we adjourn to the garden out back then, 'futur petit frere'?"
"S-'Si per favore, gentile signor'. L-Let's!" Pinocchio readily agreed. "Just- Just lemme grab a fresh new basket 'f mushrooms from the kitchen, first."
"Ahhh, yes- we'll *NEED* THAT, won't we?" the former Vicomte laughed both merrily and abashedly. "*Good heavens*, I almost completely forgot! I do apologize (again)- seems to be a Cricket family trait. Occasional absent-mindedness, that is. NO WONDER Erik once called me an 'ignorant fool' and a 'shallow dim-witted fop'...!"
(That didn't sound very nice or kind at all- but it wasn't [yet] Pinocchio's business to inquire about what Mr. Raoul meant by that, and why he seemed to say it *so FONDLY* rather than bitterly or hurtfully as he briefly reminesced about those cruel jibing epithets.)
*********************************************************************************************************************************************
First an apple, then a peach- *THIS time*, Mr. Raoul requested that Pinocchio cut free and bring over a small(ish) golden orange PUMPKIN from the squash area of the kitchen garden as well as bring out a basket of mushrooms, call over his animal friends both furred and feathered, and 'trap' four little grey mice! (Which he did, of course.) How funny... Was it just the Cricket siblings' own personal choice, or did the such-a-BIG-object to be transformed need to be different each and every time??
Well, whichever it was, Pinocchio obediently obliged before setting it down carefully and gently between the basketful of 'creminis' and two-times/plus-two ash-colored murines (whom all by this point squeaked and wriggled their noses up at him in a friendly manner, and whom Lady Ayesha predatorily eyed but didn't make a move towards). Then he backed up and away, more than ready for The Magic to *LITERALLY happen*...
Monsieur Raoul waved his own magic wand once- twice- three times, his own cheerful song/spell going like this as ONE BY ONE rather than All At Once 'rags' turned to riches, with Pinocchio himself being the last of them all to be transformed:
"The *SENSIBLE people* in the world will say,
~'FOL-DER-ROL and *fiddle-dee-dee*
And *FIDDILY-FADDLELY-FODDEL*!
All the wishes in the world
*Are POPPYCOCK AND TWADDLE*!
*Fol-der-rol and fiddle-dee-dee
And fiddily-faddlely-foodol*;
All *the DREAMERS* in the world
Are DIZZY IN THE NOODLE*...!'
They'll say it's...
*IMPOSSIBLE*
For a plain yellow pumpkin
To become a golden carriage;
IMPOSSIBLE
For a plain country bumpkin
And *a PRINCE* to join in marriage,
And *four grey mice* will *NEVER*
Be *four grey HORSES*!
'Such FOl-DER-ROL and *fiddle-dee-dee* *OF COURSE* is
*IMPOSSIBLE*!
*Impossible*...!'
But the world is full of 'ZANIES' and '*fools*'
Who don't believe in sensible rules,
And *WON'T believe* what Sensible People say-
And because these 'daft and dewy-eyed dopes'
Keep building up *IMPOSSIBLE hopes*,
*Impossible
Things are hap'ning every day*...!
And so, INDEED...
*It's POSSIBLE*
For a plain yellow pumpkin
To become a *golden carriage*!
'Tis POSSIBLE
For a 'plain country bumpkin'
And a *PRINCE* to Join In Marriage;
*And four grey mice
Are easily turned to horses*!
Such 'fol-der-rol' and 'fiddle-dee-dee'
Of COURSE is
*QUITE possible*!
It's *POSSIBLE*...!
For the world is full of 'zanies' and 'fools'
Who *DON'T believe* in Sensible Rules,
And *won't believe what Sensible People say*-
And because these daft and dewy-eyed dopes
Keep BUILDING UP *IMPOSSIBLE hopes*,
*Impossible
Things are hap'ning every day*...!
*It's POSSIBLE*- it's possible!
It's POSSIBLE; not *IM-possible*!
*'Tis possible*- it's Possible...
*It's POSSIBLE*...!"~
(Note to self: more than likely *ALL of the Cricket family* were musical [despite Miss Emily not singing HER spell last night, she just gave off That Certain Feeling same as Jiminy since they'd first met and now Mr. Raoul]- and *Mr. Raoul's significant other[s]* were quite [ha] possibly awful tuneful themselves. Not that Pinocchio minded- he'd very much missed being part of a slightly operatic family, and looked forward to doing so once more in the future...)
The moment the very last syllable/note flowed from Mr. Raoul's throat as golden as the rest of him save for his eyes, wings, wand, apparel, and mask, once more there was the beautiful golden carriage, four gayly-'dressed' pretty little donkeys (one as grey as before, and the other three either white as snow or fresh cream, both white and gray-to-black akin to pepper mixed with salt, or *striped BRIGHT YELLOW AND BRILLIANT BLUE*), a jolly tall broad still-whiskered Coachman clad in the finest livery of emerald-green and ruby-red trimmed with gold, and six footmen or women in semi-matching uniforms where before 'merely' a 'plain' light orange pumpkin, a basket of mushrooms, four little grey mice, five cats, a fox, and a seagull had stood before ...and Pinocchio was not only clean as a whistle and flesh-blood-and-bone with no 'asino' parts in sight, but dressed like a prince, this time wearing an outfit of deep sapphire-blue silk studded here and there with a cluster (or *constellation*, rather) of diamond stars. Even more small stars of diamond, quartz, white sapphire, and albite and barite were lightly sprinkled in his raven hair now long and velvety while a larger one shaped like the North/Wishing Star hung from his neck on a thin silver chain and nestled over his heart, a lovely silvery chiffon-and-organza vest seemed to float about his slender torso like a very thin cloud, his stockings glittered very faintly as a result of pure silver thread woven into the snowy-white thinner silk-and-linen, his crystal slippers this time MATCHED AND CORRESPONDED WITH his royal attire rather than charmingly standing out-
*Oh. Hmm*... Apparently this time he was also wearing *a MASK*, he suddenly saw and noticed as he again happily pirouetted before a transfigured mirror. A small satin or velvet sapphirine mask that was also beautifully adorned with diamond or white sapphire stars...
And for the very first time (or maybe he just hadn't really been paying attention before), he noticed a faint shimmering Fae Glamour that transformed him into a taller slightly older very comely young man with a perfect 'normal' nose and a light-yet-prominent dusting of freckles over the bridge of both it and his still-rosy cheeks as he looked at himself in the reflective glass. Saw what everyone else including 'la Malfoy famille' Saw as 'carisimmo amado' Jiminy had intended from the first...
He didn't mention this, of course; it was Obvious already! Instead, he wondered both to himself and aloud as he lightly touched the side of his strange but awful pretty domino, "*Why A MASK* as well this time??"
"When 'not before', you mean??" interjected sweet sunny lovely-inside-and-out Monsieur Raoul. Then he answered brightly and matter-of-factly as he indicated his knightly attire and matching mask with an up-and-down sweep of his hand, "Why, 'tis a MASQUERADE tonight, Jimmy's and our dear darling 'Nocchi, the Third and Final Ball! A *MASKED ball*! You can choose whether or not to wear an actual costume (which is why I am dressed like a dashing noble knight in shining armor rather than simply dressed very nicely), but a mask is REQUIRED. It is a *MUST*, should one wish to attend the King's and Queen's and Princess's fancy dress party tonight! -*Therefore wherefore* I also added a *matching/corresponding SMALL VISOR* to your attire tonight."
"O-Oh..." Pinocchio murmured. "I see. I- I understand, Mr. Raoul. I- I don't mind, either." 'It's kind 'f almost like celebrating Hallowe'en a bit early, which is FUN- and- and I haven't *DRESSED UP dressed up* in *years*! Not since- since Mamma got sick 'n Left, too... I guess- I guess that t'night I REALLY AM "Prince Starlight"...'
"*Oh, COME NOW*!" 'Mr. Raoul' pouted while making puppy-dog eyes. "Please do just call me *'Raoul'*! I know you are only being very sweet and kind and polite as usual and that I am a sort of stranger, but not only do I simply wish to be your friend and therefore DROP all necessary formalities, but we will be *FAMILY* one day- either fairly soon or in the future! It is one thing when Erik occasionally still calls me 'Vicomte' or Nadir 'monsieur' amongst other sweeter heart-names, but *quite another* for you to yet address me as 'Mister'... it almost rather hurts my feelings, 'mon cher'!
"After all, didn't you yourself *NOT EVER ONCE* call Jiminy 'sir' or 'mister' after clearly getting to know him, from what he's told me and Emily??"
*Raoul Cricket 'nee de Chagny* was not at all attempting to manipulate or cruelly influence 'Ash-Boy' a la either Lord Lucius, Jeune Monsieur Draco, or Jeune Monsieur Theodore- he seemed to be genuinely tristful/aggrieved, 'la povere uomo'! And Pinocchio never did like either unintentionally or on purpose hurting someone's feelings; not to mention that the elder male with deeper blue eyes dressed like a knight in a fairytale *WAS right* considering HOWclose he and Jiminy now were with each other...
"O-Okay, M- Sig- Imean, R-Raoul," he relented, struggling to free himself from the stranglehold that Propriety and Manners had had on him from practically birth (or, at least, ever since he was able to actually talk). "I'll- I'll *NOT do that*, if you don't want me to. I'm- 'M awful sorry I h-hurt your feelings," he added softly, dipping his eyes down to his magical slippers of pure crystal that LOOKED spartan to wear but were in fact as comfortable and easy to walk in as a pair of old worn house shoes and clutching and rubbing his arm.
He let out a shocked surprised sound between a squeak and a yelp when Mis- NO, *just Raoul* suddenly reached out, pulled him close, and *HUGGED* him while rubbing his own smooth rose-dusted cheek against Pinocchio's soft thick black hair and *dropping A KISS* onto the side of his head, the Lady Ayesha meanwhile loudly purring proud and affectionate as she licked his other cheek with her little sandpaper tongue from her perch on Raoul's shoulders- all these clear terms of affectionate and fondness causing his 'entourage' to murmur %"*Awwww*...!!"% (the Coachman again weepily blowing his nose)
"You DEAR *SWEET* *beautiful* *WONDERFUL boy*...!" Raoul husked with a small sniff. "*You DARLING little creature* whom OF COURSE my other big brother *fell in love with either At First Sight or over the years*... Thankyouthankyouthankyou for that, little Pine-Eye; I DESPISE formalities when they're not needed! (*ERIK*, of course, was *an EXCEPTION*, poor sublime wretched unhappy man...)"
That last, he'd clearly meant to say *to HIMSELF* but had accidentally spoken aloud instead- which stoked the flames of Pinocchio's burning curiosity even further, but he again didn't yet pay heed to. Instead, he timidly affectionately embraced *JUST Raoul* in return and shyly mumbled, "You'rewelcome, f-fr- 'fratello'..."
He blushed and squeaked at the SECOND *and THIRD* kiss pressed into his hair, being un-used to such sheer warm spontaneous affection after three years of coldness and cruelty, even what with being around Jiminy, Figaro, and Cleo, and then very recently Sofia, Lampwick, Mr. Coachman, Honest John, and Gideon. Clearly, the former 'Vicomte' was the cuddly touchy-feely 'mushy' type when it came to his friends and loved ones same as Father and somewhat Mamma had been-! (Pinocchio was technically like that himself... but a year or three of constant verbal, physical, and magical abuse had not just kind of tamped that down.)
The hug lasted a full minute, Raoul even slightly rocking Pinocchio back and forth in addition. Then Raoul pulled back, smiled as brightly and sweetly as ever, gave Pinocchio a warm gentle pat on the shoulder, and laughed, "Well- *come on then*, lovely boy! Away to the *MASKED ball* we go!"
Once more, 'Ash-Boy' readily obeyed, letting Sofia help him into the coach while Honest John held the door open for him. It was *crystal-clear* that Raoul too was going, given his costume and own mask, but still- It couldn't hurt to ask- to offer HIM help, after the blond former Vicomte had been so awful kind...
"Would- W-Would you like a ride, Monsieur Vicomte Raoul?? Since- Since you're goin' my way?"
Raoul BEAMED in response, his beautiful sapphire-blue eyes sparkling like stars from his handsome face. "Why, I would be *DELIGHTED* to ride with you to 'la Masquerade', Signorino Pinocchio! 'Merci boucoup' for asking! -I hope you do not mind if my lovely lady friend here wearing a fur coat tags along?"
"N-No, 'signore'- of course not!" Pinocchio assured him. "Pl-Please- *BOTH 'F you* come right on in!"
"Don't mind if *WE do*...!" grinned the golden-haired silvery-suited nobleman-still.
This time, it was LAMPWICK who helped *Raoul* in, while Ayesha nimbly independently leaped up onto Pinocchio's lap. Then the door was carefully yet firmly closed shut, 'Lampy', Figaro, Cleo, Sofia, John, and Gideon leapt on and held on tight, Mr. Coachman cracked his whip and called out "*YAAH*!!"- and off they all went driving through the moonlight on the highway once more.
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Okay... NOW if Raoul wished it, he could Ask Questions. It would be a while before they were at the palace, after all...! Unlike the couple of times Before, he wasn't sitting alone- and Raoul seemed to be the readily-chatty type as he'd once been before *THEY had arrived* and caused him to mainly go Speechless.
"Um... R-Raoul?"
"'Oui'? What is it, 'Nocchi love? What is Little Woodenhead thinking of that he wishes to ask about?"
*Phew*- it *WAS okay*!! Well, then- *ladies first*... "Who's-?? Wh-Who's 'Little Lotte'?"
Raoul's smile was sweet and warm and fond- but not Lovestruck as his eyes gently shone with reminiscence. "Ahh- Little Lotte? That is my own special name for my dear little friend from childhood with a Swedish father and French mother... but her *BIRTH name* is 'Christine Daae'. 'Christine Sierra Daae', in full... a rather pretty name, is it not?? We met each other when we were eight-to-nine years old...
"I was visiting my aunt in Lannion, you see- I was taking a walk with my governess, heard her singing (*ohhhh*, she has *the MOST* beautiful voice I've ever heard from a girl or lady- Erik's, of course, is the loveliest I've ever heard from a MAN, with Nadir coming as a close second!) while her father Herre Gustave played the violin, and wanted to get to know her because she looked like a very nice girl ...and *wouldn't you know it*! We didn't meet in the 'ordinary usual' way, but instead became suddenly acquainted by way of a playful naughty wind tugging Christine's red scarf off of her shoulders and casting it out to sea! She cried out and looked most distraught as she hopelessly reached out for it- of course, I couldn't bear THAT, so I said 'It's alright! I will go and fetch your scarf out of the sea!' and ran fast towards that precious scarf, not in the least heeding the indignant protests and outraged outcries of that worthy lady in black i.e. my nanny. I ran and then dove into the sea ('oui', yes, *dressed as I was*, hence why Nanny was huffing and puffing so!). Boy and scarf were both SOAKED THROUGH- 'tis *VERY LUCKY* that I did not catch a cold as a result...!
"My governess of course made a great fuss, but Christine just laughed and hugged and kissed me while thanking me profusely... and for the rest of my stay at my 'tante's' that summer, I spent every moment that I could with my new 'cher ami' who fast became my *BEST friend*. I called her 'Little Lotte' after the old Swedish fireside tale her beloved warm gentle papa used to tell us because she was very much like the 'petit fille' in the story (save for having hair the color of dark chocolate rather than 'golden as the sun's rays')...
"Alas, we did not see each other again for three years- and then longer still. Daddy Daae sadly died just after I had left again (he had a very bad cough, I'm afraid), and Christine threw herself into her art ...was tutored *by the Angel of Music*, though many would not call him such. A Dark more than Light sad, lonely, tortured Angel whom was rather jealous and possessive of his star pupil and greatly feared that with my fair face and form and our status of 'childhood sweethearts' I would take her away from him, and therefore at first forbade Little Lotte to see me again when we met at the Opera Populaire in Paris, where he lived in an underground home by the lake..."
'The Angel of Music/Little Lotte'... Father had used to tell him that story when he was alive, and sometimes Mamma as well, Pinocchio remembered; Father had even woven further tales of *the adventures of* Little Lotte and the Angel of Music who was her guide, guardian, tutor, and friend! -Well, here was one such adventure In Reality... but apparently much darker and more sad than anything close to light and humorous (or what Jiminy would have laughingly called 'fluffy').
"The- *The Angel of Music*... Is that- Mr. Erik??" he swallowed nervously, still stroking Ayesha's back and rubbing her behind the ears as royally requested as the Queen of Cats purred and purred on his lap.
Raoul nodded, the expression on his face even more loving but now also sad and slightly hurt. "*Yes indeed it is*, 'Pins'," he said quietly. "A secret and strange most notoriously abused angel who also playfully yet professionally called himself *a GHOST* whilst living under the opera house rather than In It Proper by the name of 'Erik'. *JUST 'Erik'*, for the longest time- no family name... *Poor Erik*- *POOR UNHAPPY Erik*; where do I BEGIN with him...?? -Why, From the Beginning, I suppose, 'poupette'...
"Erik was born in a small French town not far from Rouen. Born *DISFIGURED* despite possessing the beauteous voice of a merman, selkie, or angel. His mother FEARED AND HATED him on sight- I'd like to think that *his FATHER* would have been at least a little kind, but he had died in a tragic accident three months before Erik was born, and so we shall never know. His very first scrap of clothing- neither a shirt, nor pants, nor even *a NAPPY*, ...but a MASK.
"She- that- that pretty pretty MONSTER with the *FACE of* an angel or princess- She beat and neglected Erik- *NEVER* even *KISSED him* much less gave him a hug; *not even on his birthday when he asked*! Not even his PRACTICAL SECOND MOTHER Marie Perrault as plain as She was lovely could bring herself to touch or kiss him, despite being *kind to* him ...but at least she also more-or-less taught him Respect towards women, so, pros to cons. (In Erik's words, once: 'It's really very difficult to kill someone when all your inner instincts would oblige you to *take off your hat first*!')
"Eventually, finally, Erik ran away at the age of nine after it all became too much. Then one night, he happened upon a caravan of gypsies and was captured by their leader when he attempted to pet one of their horses before snitching some food. They- They took his mask off. And- And after seeing what he looked like, *WHY he wore a mask* and had BEGGED them not to take it off... he was put on display as a freak exhibit each and every day. In a COFFIN- in *a CAGE*... Such *DISGUSTING* names they used for for him, Javert of course starting it if he didn't mockingly call him 'Don Juan'-!! 'The Living Corpse'- 'the Devil's Child'... Javert beat him- the others stoned him and hit him with sticks- everywhere they went, people either laughed, cursed, or screamed at him..."
There was Something Else that Mr. 'Angelo Scuro' Erik had suffered at the hands of this disgusting awful 'Javert' that Raoul *WASN'T talking about*- something that for some reason or other *Pinocchio* had been SPARED (for now???? *Who knew* with the Malfoys...??), yet still vaguely faintly knew about: *CARNAL abuse* i.e. 'rape'. He shivered and swallowed hard, Ayesha softly yet fiercely hissing under his hands with flattened laid-back ears, a slightly twitching tail, and slit narrowed eyes at the sickening mention of how her dear darling 'pet'/ownee had been hurt while Raoul trembled like a leaf in a storm and bit back either vividly-blue curses, a couple of sobs, or both before forcing himself to continue his narrative.
"Erik- fled again after... the last time, so Javert never hurt him again. He traveled around at *HIS OWN pace* after that- to Italy, India, Russia ...and then Manzanderan, Persia. I would say that was where Daroga (the Persian chief of police) Nadir Khan came in, but he actually met Erik in Russia after being sent to find him by the shah-in-shah's mother The Little Sultana or 'Khanum'. Erik, you see, as well as being a *VERY* accomplished musician, singer, and magician, was and is also *a MASTER ARCHITECT*, and the 'shah' much desired a new palace, ...while the 'khanum' -a handsome cruel powerful woman who was feared by all save for her son and Erik- was utterly extremely bored. As in, she- desired amusing deaths. -'How did she accomplish this???' you ask, 'mon petit ami'?? ...Erik designed and created a torture chamber: a mirrored room heated to the temperature of a furnace while displaying horrific illusions that- that *seemed SO REAL* that-! W-Well, let's- let's say they eventually went the way of Romeo and Juliet...
"Nadir was assigned to be Erik's bodyguard, which was a *VERY good* thing since they eventually became friends ...and then lovers. Nadir wasn't alone, however, despite being a widower. He had a child- a beautiful but very sickly boy of ten named 'Reza'. *REZA and Erik* became especial friends, and remained so until that sweet 'garcon' finally- had to be put to sleep. Nadir and Reza- they were the one bright spot in Erik's now even more dark and bloody life. A life that he had *NEVER* wanted, but had one way or another been forced into in order to survive...
"This all lasted three years ...until it was first decided by the 'shah' to have *Erik's eyes cut out*, and then PUT HIM TO DEATH. Why???? So that no one else including the sultan in Constantinople would ever lure him from the 'shah's' and 'khanum's' service and build beautiful wonderful palaces and devices *for THEM*. Nadir- Nadir saved him; smuggled him out of Persia ...and from there, Erik went back to France. To PARIS... where he eventually became 'le Fantome de l'Opera'...
"Nadir didn't like that very much- Erik had and has SUCH *GENIUS*, and he was either forced to hide it or *use it to play tricks with* due to His Face! He HELPED TO design the Opera Palais Garnier, for heaven's sake- and yet due to his 'ugliness', he was forced to live *like HADES HIMSELF* rather than Above Ground like just about anyone else...! Was forced to HIDE ...even from his eventual student/my dear little friend from childhood Christine Daae, who referred to him as the Angel of Music sent to her by her late father from Heaven As Promised both every time he finished telling the story of aforementioned being and *on his death-bed*."
...But something had gone *WRONG*. *VERY wrong*. 'Little Woodenhead' knew this for a cold hard solid fact as much as he simply sensed it, causing him to worry and lightly bite his lower lip (and had his arms and hands been free and his lap not full of cat, he would have either clutched at or rubbed one arm alongside) as he apprehensively slightly fearfully queried in a low voice, "Wh-What-?? -*What happened*???"
Raoul sighed deeply, rubbing his sad eyes and now-slightly worn face. Rubbed at the former out of sheer reflex and *in order to try and stem his own tears*. "Well... First Christine and I met up with each other again, re-connecting instantly (though we had occasionally seen one another either onstage or in an opera box beforehand, we each found out later and were a little hurt by) ...all of which made poor Erik wildly jealous and not a bit possessive. Not as a result of *romantic* or LUSTFUL feelings, mind you (since after all, he had *'the Daroga'/'Persian'* still after he too escaped the bloodbath that was the court of Manzanderan)-! but due to those emotions PURE, SIMPLE, and ALONE. Because though he did not call her one aloud, he considered sweet lovely Little Lotte to be a friend- one of *the ONLY* friends he'd ever had besides Nadir, Reza, and later dear darling Ayesha...
"Ohhh, how Erik used to *DESPISE* me back then, constantly calling me a 'foolish little pretty boy', 'ignorant fool', 'insolent fop', and 'dim-witted child' behind my back...! (Nadir did not at all *like THAT*, either- constantly scolded Erik for it as *HIS 'conscience'*!) And yet, I apparently INTRIGUED him with all my- well, all my charms inside and out; *intrigued and fascinated NADIR* the same way... Well, the long and short of things going *WRONG* yet leading to my eventually FINALLY meeting 'the Daroga' and the Opera Ghost in the flesh is that- that- that *Christine took off his mask*. And when I heard/she told me about it, I was not at all happy to hear about what she'd done... Because that was PERSONAL- that was *PRIVATE*! *That was what he'd asked/ordered her not to do, if she loved him at all*!! 'Le Fantome', 'Ange' or 'just poor unhappy wretched Erik', *he was A Person like anyone else, and as such more than deserved that very same respect afforded to most/many others*, disfigured or no...!
"And then, from behind the statue of Apollo's Lyre... Erik- Erik sorrowfully whispered her name. No- SOBBED her name. And I didn't- *I didn't THINK*. I just Reacted. Even when/while *CRYING*, his voice was BEAUTIFUL and lured one in akin to a siren and an ill-fated ship...! and *I immediately followed after that sorrowful hurting pleading hypnotic sound to where it was coming from*... and flat-out ignoring Christine's frightened cries and warnings, I found Erik, reached out to him, and *HUGGED him*. -Hugged NADIR AS WELL, since he'd unexpectedly faithfully also followed after Erik and was standing beside him...! An- *An accident*, that ...but a *VERY HAPPY one*.
"Erik- Erik broke down completely. *Those tears- THOSE TEARS*; they FLOWED from those not-so-horrible sunken dark-circled golden-yellow eyes that both Threaten and Adore as *the Angel cried*- as the Angel *WEPT*...! It- It touched me so, affected me so that *I* cried, too...! (So did Nadir, but only half as much.) And- And- And Erik... *Erik embraced me in return*- didn't snarl or growl or curse or hiss and roughly push me away before fleeing- *did NOT* EVEN THINK to use his legendary Punjab Lasso on me, or lure me into his room of '*Mirrors can KILL*, Daroga- you have My Word on that'... Nadir enclasped and cradled the both of us... First Erik, then Nadir, *then BOTH* were damply whispering through a ghost of a smile, 'Dear boy- darling boy- *SWEET boy*- *BEAUTIFUL* boy... *Raoul- Raoul- RAOUL*...!'
"I tremblingly smiled too and whispered Erik's name and Nadir's title, the latter because I did not yet know 'the Persian's' True Name. (And *how VERY VERY* RUDE, to only call him *that* in the first place!! Just because he was and is FOREIGN...!) 'The name -the *REAL name*- is "Nadir Khan", sweetheart,' said he so warm and tender while suddenly stroking my hair and not-so-suddenly gently rubbing Erik's back and shoulders. I would add 'this with *a KISS*', but ERIK made the first move- after- after *VOLUNTARILY even if still nervously and fearfully and slowly* *removing his mask*...
"I was shocked- I was *GREATLY surprised*- considerably startled; yes, admittedly, a bit afeared and horrified, when I first saw his face Unmasked... But I had seen grievous injuries, livid scars, and even tragic deformities-from-birth before while out at sea; I was not *THAT innocent*, despite what many people thought due to my being raised mainly by my two sisters and aunt! And because they had taught me *Manners*, I *was NOT* going to react as so many others had- as *Christine was clearly expecting me to act* due to his 'monstrousness' and my own much-contrasting handsomeness! Whether he TRULY looked like a corpse come alive or not...! No- *NO*! *'Non'*!!
"Then- Then..." Now Raoul seemed wistful yet so very HAPPY, his eyes twinkling from tears and joy and sweet sweet memories as he leaned back a little... "Erik *KISSED me*. Not on the lips- *not yet*, but on the forehead...! Nadir- Nadir pressed HIS lips to my temple... I-! I-! I-!! *I shyly kissed them both back*- in *the SAME AREAS*, never- NEVER MIND having to lean up a little in order to do so, because *it was more than worth it*! They trailed and peppered more kisses down my cheeks- UP *theirs*, when 'twas their respective turn... *and THEN*, 'o then, dear saint- let *LIPS* do what HANDS do: *they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair*...!'/'*Sin from MY LIPS*?? *O trespass sweetly urged*! Give me my "sin" again...'/'-You kiss by th' book'...! Soft- sweet- GENTLE- *tender*- no... erm, heh- 'Frenching' just yet, as we'd *JUST MET*..."
Raoul sighed through a soft smile and flushed rosy-pink, brushing the tips of his fingers over his lips as he Remembered- Pinocchio started and blushed *rose-RED* by default, he was still such an Innocent as even Raoul had not used to be. HE was still yet *UN-touched*, despite 'le Malfoy famille's' sheer utter cruelty (Jiminy's kisses didn't exactly count, to his mind)...
"-Ah! *We are here AT LAST*, 'petit frere'! *We are at the palace* third time for you, but The First *for ME* plus Nadir and Erik...!"
(Ayesha politely but firmly declined to go in with both boys, instantly curling up and taking a cat-nap on the nice warm comfy carriage cushions instead. Masked or not, balls *were NOT* her 'thing', thankyoumostkindly... Her Erik would find her later, and she him- she much preferred *HEARING ABOUT a fancy-dress dance* rather than attending one! [A small friends-and/or-family gathering was something different altogether...])