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Rue’s sigh shook as it left them.
That happened with ever growing frequency, it seemed. The rumors that this Bloom would be unlike any other had thus far held true, magically, socially and- personally. Rue felt constantly on the verge of some small insanity; of crying, of shouting, of lunging after-
Well. At least they hadn’t let it interfere with their duties; and thank goodness, as keeping the Bloom running smoothly through these unprecedented ups and downs had stretched their not inconsiderable abilities to their limit. But tonight, finally, Rue did not have to worry so much that someone would notice their tumultuous state. Tonight, Rue did not have to be themself at all.
The Masquerade this year would be something to behold - Rue had put their all into making every single moment of the ball truly magical, and now that it was time to begin, they could finally relax and simply experience the fruits of their hard work.
Just as soon as they performed the opening ceremonies.
With one last deep breath, steadier this time, Rue adjusted their gown, and stepped up to the balustrade of the mezzanine overlooking the ballroom.
~*~
Captain K.P. Hob, in his usual dress uniform with a simple mask of red silk tied loosely over his eyes, stood near the back of the ballroom, the better to not embarrass himself as he watched a resplendent Delloso de la Rue step forward to officially begin the Masquerade.
Even at this distance, they were breathtaking. Despite the splendor of the room around them, they shone like the moon itself, and Hob had to tense every muscle in his body to keep the way his heart stuttered from showing on his face.
He could not help the way his ears perked as their euphonious voice rang out over the assembled crowd.
“Esteemed guests of the Bloom, it is my honor and privilege to welcome you all to The Masquerade. I invite you to spend an evening celebrating, indulging, and being whomsoever you choose to be - but do not forget,” here they gestured to the enormous clock face affixed to one wall of the ballroom, “upon the stroke of midnight, as is traditional, all masks and glamours will be removed, revealing our true selves for all to see.
“Until then... let the Masquerade commence!”
Hob looked on as Rue raised an arm to the bandstand crowded with a small orchestra and they immediately began a lively tune - the crowd moved almost as one to the dance floor with a jubilant cheer. Rue, however, moved back from the balcony and disappeared into some small side room. Precisely as Hob predicted, then.
He didn’t fool himself that they would be attending this party as their true self; just as he didn’t fool himself that they would take this opportunity of anonymity, in the course of the evening, to seek him out. He did, however, fool himself that they might allow themselves to be sought after.
To work, then. Hob began breaking up the ballroom as if it were a battlefield, planning his strategy around this single selfish goal: one more moment of connection with the Master of Ceremonies, the efflorescent Rue.
~*~
Rue slipped into the party proper maybe ten minutes after their announcement of its commencement. They had taken their time to layer on glamours, making sure none in attendance would be capable of seeing through their disguise.
It was more freeing than they had hoped.
Stepping into the spectacularly appointed ballroom and turning no heads in particular was always a treat, but this year it felt as if the very weight of the world was lifted from their shoulders. They drifted to the nearest champagne fountain and filled a flute, taking their time to survey their work.
The fountains of champagne and fairy wine were truly the least of the decor; flora spilled from every surface that was not in danger of obstructing the dance floor, pale pink peonies, velvety red poppies, and small but brilliant lily-of-the-valley vying for space in every direction, foxgloves hanging over the upper level like garlands of bells. If it weren’t for the chandeliers, covered in thousands of candles each, it would be difficult to tell they were even indoors. The effect was then heightened by the mirrors hung all along the walls, and in some places between pillars, reflecting the room back on itself a thousandfold, making it seem even larger and more populated than it already was.
Rue watched as pixies flitted above the crowds, trailing pixie dust which drifted, in glowing motes, down around the revelers, kicked back up by the whirling of robes, capes, dresses. They felt a sense of warm accomplishment wash through them at the sight of it all.
They themselves drifted aimlessly along the outskirts of the celebration, content for now to observe, until- of course. Who else but forthright Captain Hob would come to the Masquerade in not even the smallest attempt at a disguise?
Rue’s heart thundered as they watched him moving closer through the crowd. They were filled once more with urges foreign to them, each more unfamiliar than the last; Rue wanted to go to him, to offer a dance, to whisk him away to some unseen corner, hold and be held-
But Captain Hob moved closer still, eyes scanning, and Rue knew - though they dearly wished to be as bold as the Captain, they simply did not possess the bravery.
At the last possible moment, Rue turned, gracefully putting an attendee holding a large feathered fan between themselves and Hob as he passed by. They took a moment more, before turning to watch his path take him back away from them through the crowd. As he went, their heartbeat slowed, but each beat still felt like the blow of a battering ram at the gates of their rib cage.
~*~
Hob felt his hopes sinking with every passing sweep of the ball; would that he had heeded his instinct not to attend in the first place, he thought uncharitably. But… no. He would not truly have given up the opportunity to see the work that Rue had so clearly put into it.
The polished white marble of the ballroom gleamed softly in the candle light, the explosion of verdancy all around mimicking the overgrowth caused by the Bloom itself, the hanging mirrors refracting the party into a dreamlike unreality.
It was beautiful. It was just not the beauty that Hob had come for.
A few attendees tried to catch his attention as he circled, presumably some few of the friends he had made these past days, but he waved them off quickly each time. He was impatient, he knew, but he could not hold himself back from his desires.
And as the hours passed, Hob began to feel… toyed with. He felt eyes on him now and again on his rounds, but every time he turned to look he would find only an empty shadow of a column, only a flickering curtain leading to a deserted side passage, only a chattering crowd of glamoured revelers, none throwing him so much as a passing glance. He did not feel as if he was being avoided - he felt as if he was being tested.
He didn’t know what Rue wanted from him. He never had, not really. He merely held to a heart full of chimerical hopes, like clenching his fist around a fog and expecting it to stay, that they might want from him the same things he wished of them. But if his unrelenting search, if his actions throughout the Bloom, were not enough to convince Rue of the seriousness of his intentions, the intensity of his affections… he did not know what recourse he had. He would only persist until they took mercy on him, one way or another.
He took another turn, starting to circle the dance floor once again, when a gentleman suddenly strode off from beside him and-
There.
Hob met their eyes, wide behind a mask of black and gold, and he knew - though the eyes were a different color, their whole person transformed - he knew he had found them at last.
~*~
Rue could not tear their eyes away from Hob’s now that they were so near. They hadn’t meant to be caught, not exactly, but they knew as the evening grew darker and the stars came out through the high windows, that they were letting him get closer and closer with each orbit of the ballroom, pulled in by his gravity.
In truth, they had not thought he would be able to see through their glamours, even after all their effort to not come face to face with him. But now that they had, and it was clear that he did, Rue could not help but feel… known. To the very depths of their soul.
They tried to blame the effervescence in their chest on the bubbles of the champagne, but it rang false even as the thought occurred.
After an eternity of simply staring, Captain Hob bent at the waist and held out a hand upturned, not once breaking their eye contact. His face was open, and he simply waited, hand outstretched. As he had, Rue realized, the whole evening. The whole Bloom.
All of Rue’s fears, all of their duties… none of it had ever made them burn the way they burned to take this Captain of the Goblin Court’s hand.
All at once, the choice seemed easy.
Rue slipped their hand into Hob’s, and they felt the way his breath caught. His eyes finally fluttered, full of some emotion Rue dare not yet name, and he stood to his full height, pulling them gently onto the edge of the dance floor with their hand in his, and wrapping his other around their waist.
When they rested their free hand lightly on his shoulder, Hob began leading Rue through a dance they knew well, and it was their turn for their breath to catch. Though this waltz and those like it had gone out of fashion centuries ago, it was undoubtedly romantic. They stepped first one way, and then another- Hob’s hand on their waist was the warmest thing they had ever felt- a graceful turn, then the steps again- the air around them was full of pixie dust, like thick clouds of stars, clinquant in their lungs. Hob lifted his arm to spin Rue, sending the ballroom into a blur of riotous color-
And on the turn back, Rue felt as Hob stepped up onto thin air, and lead them up a step after him, so that they both were dancing a few inches off the ground.
Rue thought they could tell from the angle of his ears that Hob was embarrassed at his own boldness, but they had never felt so enchanted, so worth enchanting. As they continued to climb with every repeat of the turn and spin, couples around them took notice, and gleefully joined them as they rose steadily through the air, buoyed up by pure magic.
~*~
Hob twirled Rue, thrilled and terrified at being allowed this, this closeness and trust. He caught their waist once again, carefully as he could, and marveled at the joy which shone clearly from their eyes, at the way they didn’t hesitate to place their hand on his shoulder.
He felt as if the ocean of yearning at the core of him was being drawn up like water from the well, pouring out of every part of him - but if the way Rue was looking at him meant anything at all, he could not help but think they felt the same.
But would that be enough? When the song ended, would Rue stay? Or flit away back into the crowd, ephemeral as a daydream? He both didn’t want to find out, and was desperate to. All too soon, he would.
The orchestra began winding down, and Hob lead Rue back down through the steps until they were dancing on the ground once more. As the final notes of the strings rang out, Hob reluctantly stepped back to give them a bow, which they returned.
He stood uncertainty before them while the next song began, still caught by their unwavering gaze.
Rue held out their hand to him, palm up.
Hob was dizzy with relief as he accepted their hand and they tugged him unhurriedly out onto a balcony.
He felt almost drunk with nerves, standing in the moonlight with Rue. They were alone on the balcony, so close to the end of the evening, and now that he had the chance to speak freely, the Captain found his words had dried up.
For a long moment, the two simply stood, listening to the ocean waves crash into the distant shore, like the waves of their emotions crashing over them, that they too would be washed away with the outgoing tide.
In the end, it was Rue who broke the stillness.
“My dear Captain Hob…” they took a step closer so they could take up his other hand as well, holding both clasped in their own. “I must say, that was the best waltz I’ve ever had.”
“You are the best waltzing partner I’ve ever had,” Hob heard himself say, not quick enough to stem his honesty - but the small gasp and shy smile it earned him were worth it.
Their eyes shining, Rue said, “I don’t know what I could have possibly done to deserve you.”
Hardly knowing how he would respond, he blustered, began, “Bloom Master-“
“Please, Captain. It’s just Rue, for you.”
Though their voice was steady, Hob could see the anxiety caused by being so honest.
“Then for you, I am just Hob.”
Rue bit their lip quickly. “Hob…” they reached up, delicately, to cup his cheek in one hand.
His eyelids fluttered at the touch, which he could not help leaning into. “Rue, I…”
GONG
They both turned, wide eyed, to the large clock on the far wall of the ballroom, just beginning to toll midnight. The crowd cheered and began the countdown.
GONG
They turned back to each other.
Hob swallowed down what he had been about to say. “If,” he cleared his throat, “if you must go, I understand.”
GONG
Rue regarded him for a long moment - whatever they found, it seemed to steady them.
“No, my darling Hob. No more running.”
GONG
Then they leaned up, face tilted, and met his lips with theirs in the sweetest kiss he had ever received.
GONG
GONG
GONG
GONG
GONG
GONG
GONG
GONG
As masks were removed and glamours melted away, Hob and Rue remained, uncaring of who might see them as they shared their first kiss.
After all, there would be many more kisses to come.