A/N: Sorry for the probably numerous anachronisms (but not sorry enough to do a ton of research into whatever time/place this is supposed to be happening).

Once upon a time, in a small kingdom far away, there lived a mighty king and his only son, Prince Blaine. Tales of Prince Blaine's charm and bravery were well known throughout the land. All he lacked was a wife to provide the kingdom with another generation of brave and charming princes and princesses. Courtships of various foreign princesses and noblewomen had been rumored, but nothing had ever come of any. The sympathetic subjects believed perhaps all these women had all broken the poor prince's heart.

Shortly after the prince's twenty-fifth birthday, word went out far and wide that the king would hold a ball for the prince, and all the eligible maidens of the kingdom were invited. It was not officially stated, but was nevertheless clearly understood, that the purpose of the ball was to find a bride for the prince from among his own subjects. It was an idea that was meant with great enthusiasm by the people. The prince was more likely to find happiness with a woman of his own nation—even if a commoner—than with some heartless foreigner. And, of course, all the invited young ladies dreamed they might be that woman.

None were more excited than the women of the Corcoran household—except one. Brittany, while she loved to dance, had no interest in princes. Even if she had been interested in princes, she knew her stepmother would never let her go. She and her brother Sam were rarely allowed out at all, except on errands: they were kept far too busy cleaning and cooking and tending to the animals and, most importantly, tending to their stepmother's and stepsisters' demands. It hadn't been like that when their father was alive but, well, that had been a long time ago.

The siblings worked hard all the time, but never more so than in the weeks leading up to the ball. Sam was given extra errands like ordering new shoes for Quinn and Rachel from the village cobbler and having new harnesses fitted for the horses that would pull their carriage to the ball. Brittany had to sew gowns for her stepsisters, and on the day of the ball she had to help them dress and style their hair and select which jewelry to wear.

"It's a shame you don't have any nice things to wear," Rachel said, as she tried on an emerald brooch that had belonged to Brittany's mother. "Maybe if you did you could go to the ball too."

Quinn laughed. "Can you imagine Brittany at the ball? What would she even talk to the prince about? The best way to scrub a floor?"

Sam, who was adding wood to the fireplace, overheard. Brittany never seemed to get angry at the way Quinn and Rachel treated her, but he got angry on her behalf. He had tried many times to convince her to leave with him. They could go to another village and find work. Even if they'd still be servants, it would be better than where they were now. But Brittany refused to leave her best friend Santana, who lived on a farm nearby, and Santana couldn't leave because her parents needed her help on the farm. Sam wouldn't leave Brittany in their stepmother's house without him, so there they all were. While their stepsisters were admiring themselves in the mirror, Sam pulled Brittany out into the hall. "You could still go to the ball if you want," he told her. "You could wear one of Quinn's old gowns, and you could take Lord Tubbington." Lord Tubbington was Brittany's favorite horse. Quinn and Rachel wouldn't be taking him because Brittany was the only one who could control him.

"It might be kind of fun, but it's not a big deal," Brittany said. "If Santana were going then I'd want to. I bet she'd look really pretty all dressed up and with her hair up and everything. But she doesn't want to. I wish..."

The hallway was suddenly filled with a blinding light. Sam and Brittany instinctively shielded their eyes. When the light faded and they dropped their arms from in front of their faces, they saw a tiny, blonde woman standing in front of them. She smiled up at Brittany and asked sweetly, "You wish you had a gown to wear and a carriage to take you to the ball, hon?"

"No, I..."

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"I'm April, your sister's fairy godmother, of course. I'm here to grant her wish."

"For real?" Sam asked.

The so-called fairy godmother rolled her eyes. "Of course for real. Do you think I show up in people's houses in a spectacular flash of light just to amuse myself?"

Sam wondered. But before he could ask anything else, they were interrupted by Quinn yelling from inside the bedroom, "Brittany! Where did you go, you lazy wench? I need help with my hair!"

Brittany's godmother patted Brittany on the shoulder. "Come meet me in the stable after your sisters leave—"

"Stepsisters," Sam corrected her.

"...and I'll grant that wish for you." She looked Sam up and down and added, "And maybe your brother can grant me a wish." Then she disappeared in a great cloud of smoke.

Brittany hugged Sam and patted his back as he coughed. When his coughing subsided she kissed him on the cheek and said, "I know just what I'm going to wish for!"

Finally Quinn and Rachel were off, Shelby watching wistfully as they rode away. She turned to Brittany and Sam and said, "You two won't even be necessary when the prince marries one of them. The palace has plenty of servants already."

"Which one do you think he'll marry?" Brittany asked.

Shelby tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Quinn's the more beautiful, but Rachel's the more persistent. So it's hard to tell." She shrugged. "It's all the same to me, either way I'll practically be a queen."

"Congratulations," Brittany said.

Shelby scowled at her, then at Sam. "Don't you two have work to do? I can't have you lounging around gossiping about your betters all day."

"I have some cleaning up to do in the stable," Brittany said.

"Me too!" Sam added. He didn't completely trust that weird smoke-and-light lady and didn't want Brittany to be alone with her.

Shelby stared at them as they stood there. "Well? Go do it then!" she snapped. As Brittany and Sam scurried off to the stable, Shelby walked back into the house, muttering to herself, "Lazy, ungrateful wretches..."

They found April standing in the middle of the stable. "You fetch me a pumpkin!" she ordered, pointing at Brittany. "And you fetch me a bottle of wine!" she ordered, pointing at Sam. She wobbled a bit, and Sam rushed over to catch her. She leaned against him and put her hand on his chest. "You can help me drink it." Sam didn't think that was such a good idea. He also didn't think leaving April alone in the stable was a good idea, so he stayed and helped hold her steady while Brittany went to the garden for a pumpkin.

Brittany found the biggest, ripest pumpkin in the garden, cut it off the vine, and carried it back to the stable. "Will this do?" she asked, holding it up for April to inspect.

"Sure, whatever. Set it down on the ground."

Brittany set the pumpkin down.

"Outside the stable, honey! Honestly!"

Brittany picked the pumpkin up, carried it outside, and set it down again. April reached up under her skirt and pulled out a wand that she'd concealed up there somehow. She waved the wand in the general direction of the pumpkin and—poof!—it was instantly transformed into a golden carriage.

"What!" Brittany exclaimed.

April turned to Brittany and pointed the wand at her. Suddenly Brittany's dress, sewn of patches of fabric leftover from her stepsisters' dresses, was transformed into a brilliant blue satin gown. Brittany had never seen anything like it in person, just in a portrait she saw once. All Brittany could think to say, again, was, "What!?"

"So you can go to the ball, of course."

"But I don't even want—"

"No, of course you can't go in those," April said, noticing Brittany's worn, scuffed work boots. She pointed the wand at them and they turned into dainty slippers made of...glass? "Well, off with you now. And you're welcome, by the way. Just don't stay too late. Everything turns back to normal at midnight." Turning to Sam, and reaching her hand under his shirt, she said, "Now, where's that wine? Let's you and me have our own private ball, if you catch my drift."

"Um, no thank you," Sam said. April was disturbing, and Brittany was obviously upset. "I think Brittany wants—"

"Whatever," April said, disentangling herself from Sam and taking a stumbling step away from him. "You're both a couple of ingrates. I could have rocked your world, you know. But it's fine. It's not like you're the only handsome young servant boy left home all alone tonight while his sisters are off vying for the prince's affections." She flounced off in another cloud of smoke, bigger and smokier than the one earlier in the hall.

Brittany walked over to Sam and leaned against him...or tried to anyway. Her giant dress got in the way. "I thought she was going to grant me a wish."

Sam wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulder. "I think she thought your wish was to go to the ball."

"That's stupid. I could have gone anyway if I wanted to, like you said. I wouldn't waste my magical wish on it."

"I know, Britt. But I don't think she's coming back to ask what you really want, so...I think you should go."

"I don't know..."

"Just think how much fun it'll be to dance all night. I know you'd like it more with Santana, but going would still be more fun than staying here. And you look really pretty in that dress; it would be a shame not to put it to use."

"Yeah, but these shoes are glass. How am I supposed to dance in glass shoes?"

"I don't know. Put your boots back on. They barely show under the dress anyway."

Brittany let Sam convince her to go. There was no time to do anything elaborate with her hair like she'd done for Quinn and Rachel, but Sam picked some flowers for her to put in it. While she did that and changed into her own boots, Sam harnessed Lord Tubbington to the carriage, nearly getting kicked once and bitten twice. "You look amazing," he told her as he helped her into the carriage. "I bet you anything Prince Blaine will ask you to marry him."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "You know that's not why I'm going, right?"

"Yeah, I know. But come on, he's so brave! Remember the story about how he single-handedly slayed that dragon when he was only fourteen? And, gosh, he's so handsome!" They'd seen Prince Blaine once, two years ago, when he'd visited their village, and even then they hadn't been close enough to really see him that well. Still, Sam had remarked many times since then on how handsome he was. Luckily he only said it to Brittany; anyone else might think it was strange. Sam picked up the glass shoes. "What should I do with these?"

"Um...I guess I'd better take them with me, just in case April shows up and is mad that I'm not wearing them. This dress has really big pockets, so I'll just..." Sam handed her the shoes, and they fit in the pockets easily.

"Just don't fall on your hip or something and cut yourself," Sam warned her.

"With all this fabric between me and them? I'm not worried."

~o0o~

Prince Blaine stood at the top of the grand staircase, mentally preparing to make his official entrance at the ball. He should be happy. Every beautiful single maiden in the kingdom was there...and every not-beautiful one too. Blaine didn't actually care one way or the other—feminine beauty was completely wasted on him. Masculine beauty on the other hand...

But his father was probably right. He had to marry. He'd been avoiding this responsibility for too long now.

He surveyed the crowd below. Everyone was gazing up at him respectfully, some with eagerness, some with awe. All were dressed in their very finest clothing, which varied greatly in quality, as nobles and commoners alike had been invited. He told himself as he descended the stairs that surely there was one woman here who could make a suitable companion for him and a good mother for his children...and who could be happy with what he had to offer, he hoped. He didn't want to deceive some poor young woman into thinking he could love her the way a husband should love his wife; when he inevitably wouldn't be able to, he didn't want her to think it was her fault.

His father was wrong about one thing. As Blaine soon discovered, dancing with strangers at a ball was a terrible way to try to find a wife. How well could you get to know someone during the length of a minuet? Just enough for a brief impression, really. Just enough to make him feel bad for the young ladies who thought they could impress him with glimpses of their cleavage...though they, at least, were more reasonable than the ones who thought they could impress him with their expensive clothing...as if such finery would be a novelty to him. One girl asked if she could sing for him. That was different enough, at least, that he probably would have let her if she hadn't prefaced the request with a long speech about her angelic singing voice.

Eventually one young lady caught his eye. She was dancing all by herself, and, what's more, she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. As soon as the current dance ended, he approached her. "Excuse me, miss. May I have the next dance?"

The flushed girl was apparently startled by him, but she smiled broadly. "Thank you, yes! There aren't enough boys at this dance, and the girls don't want to dance with me, they all want to dance with the...Oh wait, aren't you the prince?"

"I am."

"Oh, I was supposed to curtsy, wasn't I?"

"Never mind that, the music is starting."

Brittany, as he learned her name was, was a natural dancer, if not an especially sophisticated one. She didn't know the latest, most fashionable dance steps, but she did know how to move to music. When their first dance was nearing its end, Blaine asked if she would be his partner for the next one as well. She answered, "I'd love to, but..."

"But...?" Blaine asked. He really hadn't expected her to hesitate.

"Well, I kind of thought the whole point of this ball was for you to find a bride."

"Yes," Blaine said, stifling a sigh.

"Well, then...I really like dancing with you and everything, but it wouldn't be fair for me to take up more of your time, because I don't want to get married."

"No?" The music ended, but Blaine didn't let go. He hoped if they stayed in position they'd end up dancing together again. "Not to me, or not to anyone?"

Brittany didn't stifle her sigh. "Not to anyone, I guess."

The music started again, and they resumed dancing together. "May I be honest with you, Brittany?"

Brittany looked at him with surprise. "Aren't princes always honest?"

Sidestepping that question, Blaine said, "I don't want to get married either."

Brittany stopped dancing, but just for a second. "Why are you looking for a bride then?"

"Because I have to. I'll be king some day, and kings have to be married."

"I thought kings got to do whatever they wanted. Isn't that the best part about being king?"

"Yeah, well..." Blaine didn't want to start complaining about how hard it was to be a king. Despite her exquisite gown, Brittany's lack of sophistication—not to mention her boots, which looked like those of a peasant or a servant—clearly identified her as a commoner. Instead he went with the much more facile, "I'm not the king yet."

"Oh! So your dad is making you?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. My stepmother makes me do a lot of things I don't want to, but not that."

"You have a stepmother? I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry about whatever happened to your real mother. But I'm sure your stepmother is perfectly lovely too."

"She isn't. Unless you just mean pretty. I guess she's pretty. But I thought you meant lovely like nice. And she isn't."

"Yes, that's what I meant. I'm sorry she isn't."

"It's okay, it doesn't bother me that much. It's much worse for my brother. I have a really good friend; he only has me."

Blaine stopped asking Brittany about her home life. Talking about it just seemed to make her sad, and Blaine felt a very strong urge to make sure she was happy. He stopped talking much at all, in fact, because what clearly made her happiest was dancing. And, actually, that made Blaine happiest too. They did continue to talk a little of course—for example, Brittany told him some stories about a "Lord Tubbington," who Blaine at first thought was an unscrupulous suitor trying to pass himself off as a nobleman (there was no Tubbington in their kingdom's peerage, nor in any neighboring kingdom's!), until she mentioned riding him and sneaking him apples and Blaine realized she was talking about a horse—but mostly they just danced.

As it got later and as Blaine became more confident that she wouldn't take offense, he decided to ask something he'd been curious about all evening. "Brittany," he started, "the gown you're wearing is so beautiful..."

She looked down at it as if it were completely foreign to her. "I didn't make this. It's not very comfortable."

"Ah. But your boots are?"

"Yeah. I mean, I wear them every day so they're broken in. Unlike the stupid glass shoes my godmother wanted me to wear."

"Glass shoes?"

"Yeah, look!" Brittany reached into her pocket and pulled out, sure enough, a shoe made entirely out of glass. She handed it to him and he examined it from every angle. It was very pretty, but Blaine couldn't blame her for not wanting to wear them to dance in (or at all). He was about to ask her about the godmother who gave them to her when Brittany froze and asked, "Was that a bell?"

Blaine hadn't heard anything, but he listened for a moment until there was another one. "Yes, that's just the clock tower."

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight, I should think."

"Oh no! I have to go!"

"But why? Aren't you having a good time?"

"I'm having probably the best time I've ever had without Santana. But I'm afraid Lord Tubbington will be frightened when the carriage turns into a pumpkin."

"What? Brittany..." She was halfway across the ballroom before he could think of anything else to say, and even that was only, "Do you want your shoe back?" But she either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him.

~o0o~

Brittany got home about an hour after midnight—the trip home was quicker than the trip there, since Lord Tubbington didn't have to pull a carriage—to find Sam waiting sitting outside in front of the stable. She hopped down and ruffled his hair. "What are you doing up?" she asked, leading Lord Tubbington to his stall.

"I just had to hear how it was!"

"It was fun. The music was really pretty. There were a whole bunch of people who just did nothing but play music all night for everyone else to dance to. That must be fun. But also sad because they never got to dance."

"Did you see him?" Sam asked. "The prince?"

"Yeah! I danced with him—a bunch of times!"

"What!?" If it had been anyone else saying that, Sam wouldn't have believed her, but Brittany didn't lie. "How many times?"

"I don't know, I didn't count. He asked me to dance once and then he asked me again right after, and then he just sort of stopped asking but we kept dancing the whole time until I had to because it was midnight."

Sam couldn't believe how nonchalant she was acting about this. Did she really not realize? "Brittany!"

"What?"

"It sounds like he picked you!"

"Yeah, I already told you that he picked me to dance with."

"No, not just to dance with. It sounds like he picked you to be his wife! A princess, Brittany! The queen someday!" Brittany was the luckiest girl in the whole kingdom. "Is he still so handsome?"

"No—"

"No!?"

"I mean, yes, he's still handsome, but no, he doesn't want to marry me. I told him I don't want to get married and he told me he doesn't either."

"But Brittany...the whole point of the ball was for him to find a bride."

"Yeah, but only because his father wants him to. If you ask me, I think the only reason he danced with me so long was because I didn't want him to ask me to marry me, so he was able to relax. Well, that and I'm an amazing dancer."

"How could you not want to marry him, though?"

"You know I would never leave Santana to marry some man."

"But he's not just some man, he's the actual prince!"

"Sammy." Brittany took her brother's hand and looked in his eyes. "I'm really sorry I got to dance with him instead of you. I just like dancing, but I think you really would have liked dancing with him."

"That's silly, Brittany. No one ever heard of two boys dancing together before." If that were a thing that could happen, though...