Hello, everybody! I really love the Princess and the Frog. It's one of my favorite Disney movies. There aren't too many I don't like, lol. I wrote this story because I really wanted to explore Big Daddy's character, and create more of a back story for him because I just think he's so overlooked, and we never see Charlotte's mother, whuch made me think something happend to her, possibly before the beginning of the film, so I kind of wanted to explore what could've happend to her, sort of like what I did with Loss, my Good Dinosaur fic. I'm pretty much a tomboy and I'm not ashamed to admit it, so I'm nothing like Charlotte, lol, but she is definitely Daddy's Little Girl, and I can reate to that side of her, which I Iike, so I also wanted to write this to show that Charlotte might have her flaws, but she isn't a bad person. I think her parents raised her with some morals because she sacrificed her happiness so Naveen and Tiana so they can be happy, and she remained friends with Tiana even though they are of different skin color, which was kind of a thing that was unheard of in the time period the Princess and the Frog takes place in. She isn't perfect, but nobody is. If we were all perfect, we wouldn't be human. I should also mention it takes place during the movie, at the masquerade ball Big Daddy holds in Naveen's honor. Anyway, I hope everybody enjoys the story!
Charlotte's father was as big as his name implied.
They didn't call him Big Daddy for nothing.
He stood a couple heads taller than everybody else at the masquerade ball he was hosting at the LaBouff mansion in Prince Naveen's honor, but he moved with an odd, yet fluid grace that highly crontdricted his large, bulky frame, and a jovial, engaging smile stretched across his wide, beaming face, pulling up the corners of his bushy, handlebar mustache. Onlookers watched him with keen interest, envious of his fame and wealth, but not of his health.
Charlotte knew everybody looked at her father and saw a walking heart attack. She could see it on their faces, which always wore an expression mixed with pity and concern when they looked upon him. She worried about him constantly, afraid she would come home one day to find him lying dead on the floor. She had been onto to him to lose some of the weight and eat healthier, but she knew it was easier said than done.
Being a sugar baron and the wealthiest man in New Orleans, everybody was aware of how he had lost his wife a few years earlier. Charlotte's mother had been taken by a heavily advanced form of cancer the doctors had said, and they hadn't discovered it in time to treat it. Her passing had heavily effected him and Charlotte both, and it was one of the reasons for his recent weight gain. He had let himself go. When he had lost his wife, it was almost as if he had lost the will to live. He was hiding his pain well, Charlotte knew. She watched him with a worried expression on her face, frowning.
Seeing her coming toward him he turned to face her, stretching his thick arms out toward her, his booming, yet somehow soothing voice filling the entire dining hall. "There's Daddy's Little Girl," he said, either not noticing her or anxiety or choosing to ingore it altogether, Charlotte couldn't tell, but she tried not to let it show that his failure to acknowledge it was bothering her.
"Hello, Daddy," Charlotte said, and pulled back from him in order to smile at him. "What are you up to?"
Her father chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that had always made her feel safe. "Oh, just checking out the buffet," he side, hooking his thumbs under the folds of his toga, which hung loosely about his considerable frame, and began to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet. "How about you?
Charlotte shook her her head, making the headfull of fair, golden curls framing her rosey face bounce above her narrow shoulders. "Oh, nothing, just walking around, mingling with the locals, and catching up on all the local gossip," she said, giving her father a sly, mishichevious wink, a playful glint in her eyes.
"That's my girl," her father said, beaming at her with pride, and gave her cheek a gentle pinch. "Just remember what your Mother taught you."
Charlotte' s expression softened, and she gave her father a sympthatic look, knowing he was missing his wife terribly. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," she said, repeating the old saying her mother had taught her a long time ago with both fondness and sadness. She had lived by it her whole life.
"That's right," her father said, enfolding his arms around her tiny waist in a bonecrushing, bearlike hug, planting a light, yet heartfelt kiss on her heek. "Your Mother would be proud of you, honey."
He turned, beginning to walk away, and for the first time she saw a slight falter in his steps, a stagger, the first sign of weakness she had seen out of him since he had learned the news of her mother's death over the phone, and it broke her her heart to see it. Her father was the only man she had in her life. He was her rock, her everything. To her, there was no man stronger than her Daddy, especially when she had been little. She had thought he wasn't afraid of anything, and that he was the bravest person in the universe. To see him crumble was like having the world knocked out from under her feet.
A sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness washed over her, and she swayed, clutching the side of her head with one of her trembling hands.
Once she had somehow managed to compose herself and regain her balance, she steadied herself on her feet, and started to run toward her father, but stopped, knowing he wouldn't want her to draw any more unwanted attention toward him than what he would've deemed necessary. "Oh, Daddy," she said, sniffing, furiously, blinking back the tears out of her eyes. "I wish I could bring Mother back for you."
His board shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn around. Charlotte knew then he was crying and just didn' t want her to see him in his current, vulnerable state, and she respected it. She just didn't know how to take it, so she didn't say anything, just watched his retreating back wordlessly, not knowing what to say or do. Having never felt so helpless in her life, she turned and walked away, wishing things could be different and that they could go back to a much simpler time, but knowing such a wonderful, miraculous thing couldn't be possible.
"I can give your father his health back."
Charlotte stopped at the sound of the chilling, silky, smooth voice, and slowly turned to see who it belonged to, squinting her gaze to make out the mysterious stranger lurking under the shadows of the house. "Who are you?" she asked, taking a few cautious steps toward him, wanting to keep a safe distance from him. "Were you invited?" She tried not to sound rude, but there was something about this man she didn't like. She just couldn't put her finger on it. She had never seen him before. She had never even heard her father mention coming across a man like him before.
"Why, Miss. LaBouff, people know me as The Shadow Man, but my actual name is Doctor Facilier, and you may call me Mr. Facilier, if you like," the man said, stepping out of the shadows, revealing a tall, dark, slender figure and a narrow, gaunt face. He acknowledged her presence with a graceful bow, whipping off the tophat from the top of his head. "Whether or not I was invited, however, should be of little to no importance to you."
"I'm afraid it is, sir," Charlotte said, taken back by the strange man's off-putting manner. "If you have showed up uninvited, without my father's permission, I will personally see to it he will have you escorted off the premises."
Mr. Facilier rose back up, shaking his head, unable to hide his disappointment from his face. "Actually, my presence here may be of great benefit to you, Miss. LaBouff," he said, and clutched his chest, fegining an invisible wound she had no doubt been responsible for inflicting. "You see, I have a deal for you, a rather quiet inticing one I think you'll find very interesting and irresistible."
Charlotte raised one of her eyebrows at him, still skeptical of this man, thinking he was some kind of charlatan out to get her money. Her father had told her to watch out for types like him. He had said they came in all shapes, sizes, and disguises, and they would do anything for money, even harm her to get it.
Charlotte had even started carrying rocks in her purse whenever she went out just so she would have a way to defend herself from some unknown assailant who might try to pop up anywhere at any moment to try to assault her. Being rich and famous wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The wealthy had their problems, too. "What are you talking about?" she asked, surprising herself when a rueful snort escaped her. She had never been one to believe in fairy tales. She had enjoyed them when she had been little, and Tiana' s mother had read them to them, but she had stopped believing in them as she got older, having wished on several stars and never gotten what she had asked for. She had wished for a Prince and had never gotten one. She had wished for her mother to come back but she had never returned. Needless to say, she didn't believe in magic anymore, either. "Giving my father he's health back?"
Mr. Facilier nodded. "I could probably even bring your Mother back, but such a miraculous feat will require quiet a heavy price," he said, letting out a low, soft chuckle under his breath, and began to stroll toward her. "A heavy price indeed, maybe even your life."
Charlotte had to admit, the offer was very tempting, and she wanted it more than anything, but her instincts were still telling her not to trust this man. She felt it was the right choice her mother would've wanted to make. "I'm sorry, Mr. Facilier, but I can't," she said, shaking her head, and started to turn to walk away. "I have enough to worry about right now."
Mr. Facilier nodded, lowering his head, and placed his bony hands over the top of his cane. "Understandable, Miss. LaBouff, " he said, retreating into the shadows from whence he had came, and a slow, manevolent smile streched across his face, gleaming in tne darkness. "My offers aren't for everyone, espically for the faint of heart." Charlotte shivered, feeling his cold, slanted gaze on her. "You might not be the right candidate." He streched a hand out of the shadows, holding up a finger. "Just keep in mind, I can give your father his health back, but I can also take it away."
Charlotte spun back around to face the man, but by the time she looked back, he was gone.
More than a little slightly unnerved by the encounter, Charlotte shivered, and began to look for her father again.
It didn't take her long to find him.
She was a little relieved, and a little exasperated, to find him back at the buffet. "Oh, father," she said, shaking her head, but smiled. Some things just never changed, and her father was one of them.
Her father blinked at her in bewilderment, clearly having no idea who she was talking about. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked,
"I just saw a very strange man," Charlotte said, folding her across her chest, a shudder rippling through her. "I had never seen him before, and I didn't trust him, because he was spouting nonsense."
"What did he say?" her father asked, a dark shadow falling across his face, and Charlotte knew then he would've killed Mr. Facilier, or any other man, for that matter, if he had laid a finger on her or harmed her in anyway.
"He was just making a lot of extraordinary promises I knew he wouldn't be able to keep," Charlotte said, not wanting to tell her father how Dr. Facilier had promised to bring her mother and his health back, knowing he wouldn't have liked it and wouldn't have believed her, anyway.
Her father threw her head back, roaring with laughter. "Sounds like some of your old boyfriends, but I wouldn't worry about him," he said, draping a strong, firm hand over her shoulder, and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. "I'm sure if he didn't stay long, he wasn't here to cause any harm, though."
"Oh," Charlotte said, choosing to ingore the wisecrack about her boyfriends, knowing he was just joking, and let her shoulders sag from relief. "That's good." She clasped his hands in his, and leaned toward him to plant a light, quick kiss on his forehead. "Please, take care of yourself, Daddy."
"Oh, I will, sweetheart," her father said, giving her hand a gentle, comforting squeeze. "Don't you worry about an old man like me." He looked past her shoulder, staring off into the shadows where the shadow man had been, as if he had somehow sensed his presence there. "I can take care of myself."
"Are you sure, Daddy?" Charlotte asked, and embraced him, somehow managing to wrap her arms around his extended, rotund stomach. "I know you're a grown man, and that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but I still worry about you. "
"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, and Charlotte was shocked to see a single tear running down his cheek, her eyes widening in horror. "You know, you're very much like your mother that way." He cupped her cheeks in his hands, and brushed a stray lock of hair dangling off her forehead. "She never believed me when she asked that and I gave her the same answer."
"But I'll always be your little girl," Charlotte said, looking back up at him, amused to see his cheeks blush red from embarrassment, something else she had never seen before.
Things weren't perfect, and her mother was never coming back. She didn't like it, but she had to learn to accept it long ago, because there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, she still had her father, and she was going to love and care for him for as long as she could.
The End