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“It’s…beautiful,” breathed Rose.
Juleka cocked her head at the delicate glass construction. “It looks okay, I guess?” But- beautiful? It was just a glass trinket.
Then she smiled, as she glanced back at Rose’s face. Trust her best friend to find beauty in a little glass sculpture.
But Rose could see her confusion. “Oh, glassworking is so wonderful! It’s art ! Come and see!” She began to pull Juleka over to a sign reading ‘Tours and Demonstrations.’
Marinette followed her friends. They had brought her along, although they both seemed oblivious to her now that they were here. The whole point, according to Rose, was to distract her from whatever was bothering her.
Not that she had told them what that was. There was no way she was going to lay out her broken life for them; too much of it was superhero or Guardian stuff she couldn’t tell, and as for the heartbreak? No need to burden them with that. She was just going to have to fix things, and soon, before Hawkmoth did something. She constantly felt the pressure of an internal timer, waiting for the bomb to go off.
“Come on, Marinette! The tour’s about to start!” Rose reached over and pulled Marinette’s arm with the hand that wasn’t in Juleka’s. For someone so tiny, she could be a force of nature on occasion. Marinette let herself be dragged along, with a smidgen of hope that this would be distraction enough for the other girls, at least.
The tour guide was quite interesting, to Marinette’s surprise. Explaining the steps of the process- heating the sand to melt it, taking a portion on a tube to blow, adding color, constantly turning the glass so it didn’t drip- it was more fascinating than she’d thought it would be to watch the vase come to life in the assistant’s hands.
Finally, the finished piece sat on a metal tray, beautifully fluted and looking like a tropical flower with a green base and pinkish-red sides. Marinette had asked the guide for permission to sketch, and had created a design for a flowing tunic based on the shimmering glass.
The entire process had reminded her of herself, in a way. Melting under high heat, like the constant attacks by Hawkmoth; getting stretched and pulled into a new shape, like becoming the Guardian. Sometimes Marinette felt like she was looking at a stranger when she looked in the mirror every morning.
“Oh, it’s so pretty! ” gushed Rose. “I just want to put a bouquet in it and take it home!”
The guide laughed. “Not so fast, little one,” he said in his accented French. He turned to Marinette. “May I have a piece of paper, please?”
Confused, Marinette tore out a sheet from the back of her sketchbook and handed it to the guide, who balled it loosely in one hand before dropping it into the new vase.
The paper promptly burst into flame. Rose shrieked and leaped back, while Juleka stared in fascination. The rest of the group muttered in awe.
“You see,” said the guide, “this piece is not ready to do what it was made to do yet. It is still too hot, too new to its shape. It must cool before it can be what it is meant for. And that takes time. Come with me.”
As he led them towards another set of ovens on the other side of the room, Marinette’s mind and heart focused on what the man had said. It must cool; that takes time.
Maybe she needed time.
The guide showed the group a second set of furnace doors. “These are annealing furnaces,” he said. “Here, the new glasswork is placed to cool.”
“A furnace is cool?” Juleka asked quietly, head tilted. Marinette was glad she asked.
“Yes,” said the guide. “You see, glass cannot cool properly in a room like this. If we were to simply leave the vase where it is, it would cool too fast and shatter. This furnace is still hot- hotter than here, but not so hot as the glass furnace. Here the glassware made today will cool slowly over several days, as the temperature is lowered slowly.” As he spoke, the young assistant carried over the vase on its tray, using heavy mitts and tongs. Opening one of the small doors, he slid the piece in.
Marinette watched, absorbed in her thoughts. She’d felt a pressure to solve everything right now ; it had been adding to the stress of her new responsibilities and her broken heart. It had gotten so bad, she couldn’t sleep some nights for worrying over how soon she could defeat Hawkmoth and put things to rights. Chat Noir had sensed her turmoil the last few fights; he’d looked like he’d been about to ask, but there was no time after the akumas were defeated.
But maybe- maybe the answer was here. While it was true that Hawkmoth was getting more difficult, she and Chat had experience now. She had her new charge as the Guardian, true, but she could take the time to learn the details of the Miraculous, not rushing and maybe forgetting something important.
What did the old fable say? Slow and steady wins the race. Maybe she could take a breath, step back for a second, and plan what to do.
A crash of shattering glass was heard behind them, amid moans and what sounded like a curse. Marinette started to look around for a butterfly, but the unfortunate young man who broke the vessel he had just finished shook his head and went for a dustpan and wire broom.
“Oh, I feel so bad for him,” said Rose, who had been the most startled by the crash. So did Marinette; what had been a lovely pitcher was now glittering shards on the floor.
“Yes, it is a tragedy, but not a complete disaster,” said the guide. “You see, glass can always be remelted and reshaped. That one beautiful thing is gone, but the pieces can be melted and remade again into something different but just as beautiful.”
Marinette smiled to herself. How many times had she proclaimed something a ‘disaster’- only to find out that, while it may have been bad, it was nowhere near as bad as she thought? Maybe losing Fu and becoming a Guardian was not so bad. Maybe her broken heart could be remade into something better than her obsessive crush was before.
Marinette was lost in her own thoughts for the rest of the tour. Would things have to change? For sure, they couldn’t stay the way they were. But just because one thing broke, didn’t mean the world came to an end. Marinette glanced at her friends, who were chatting enthusiastically about the glassworks for sale in the gift shop.
She would take her time. Find new heroes, and find her stride again. Find her balance with Chat Noir again. And maybe- instead of just reacting to attacks, finding a way to go on the offensive and stop Hawkmoth and Mayura for good. She maybe wasn’t ready yet- but she would be.