Cinderella

She collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the hard day's work. No one cares. No tears are shed for the beautiful Pureblood orphan. Once her name was enough to earn her smiles and flatteries galore. But the war is over, and no one cares for the fire haired girl who cries herself to sleep ever night.

Her family came out on the wrong side and were killed for it. She had learned her lesson. But her once fiance hadn't. He continued to fight, even as the guns went off. "Damn their warnings, Damn their lies..." and all that.

And what did he get for it? Nothing, except an early grave.

She sighed, begging the tears not not to make their nightly appearance, but once again, mere thought of life before this hell was enough to bring the familiar sensation to her nose and eyes. Her throat tightened and she bit her lip to keep from crying aloud.

She tried to look on the bright side. She was learning a lot more than she thought she could have, sort of a free education.

But still, she sees the students and can't help but wonder what her life would be like with out all this. With out the change.

But she refuses to let it get to her. Once again, she dried her tears and sat up. You can't change the past and she wouldn't hurt the innocent. And she won't become someone she hates.

She took her hair down from the handkerchief that had held it back and let it fan out on the pillow. Once her hair was fair as copper. Now it is dingy and dirty. She wished she could clean it, but there would be no prupose.

She dreamed of a prince when she was little and now she calls forth that memory. He stands tall. smiling down as he extends a hand to her.

But that prince is gone, shattered and broken. Now the only boy who will look at her and consider a mating dance is the dish boy, Eric. Not exactly high class, but she feels it would be wise to play the part. She needs something secure, and Eric offers it.

Finally she succumbs to sleep and falls into a dreamless one.

Several hours later, the door to her room opens. A fair maiden with locks of gold enters and kneels beside her bed. She reaches out a pale hand and gently carresses her cheek.

"I'm here sweet Princess." The golden haired one whispers. "I'm here, my sweet Ginevra."

(A/N:Sooooo should I continue? It will be Femeslash with humor and angst (we'll get to the humor later).