Disclaimer: I do not own Cinderella.
To everyone who has read and reviewed, thank you so much. I am speechless to how much support and love this one-shot has received.
I went ahead and rewrote this story, but it is pretty much the same. I'm thinking of someday writing a fanfic that tells the childhood lives of Cinderella and her stepsisters. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!
Merry Christmas to all!
The backdoor window sat open revealing the frozen landscape of what once was a pumpkin patch. All shades of green and orange were wiped away in a blanket of pure white: the color of purity, innocence, and a hopeful future. It was a hue used in both weddings and funerals. While some found its lack of color bland, there were others who admired the simplicity of its beauty. Cinderella fell into the second group.
Cinderella watched the graceful ritual the flakes sprinkling from the clouds. They danced a most intricate ballet before diving headfirst to kiss the ground where each individual would mesh into a mural of winter. The flames from the fireplace kept her pale skin from freezing. Bruno lay sound asleep on the rug a few feet away from the servant.
Cinderella quietly sang the first verse to her favorite Christmas carol, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," as she swept the ash around the fireplace. She wished that the cinders could take a holiday. Cinderella kept a smile on her face. Neither the household chores, nor her stepfamily would ruin her Christmas spirit.
Bruno jerked his head up at the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. Cinderella tightened her grip on the broom. Despite her family's knowledge she had quite an arm on her. Any burglar who attempted to rob them would meet his match at Cinderella's defense. If Bruno did not attack the stranger first, she would.
Her stepmother and stepsisters left about an hour ago to pick up a few last minute presents for those attending the Christmas party scheduled for that evening. That reminded her that she needed to make the truffles her stepmother commanded the instant she finished sweeping. Fortunately for her the kitchen was the last room in the house that required cleaning.
The door opened to reveal Anastasia standing at the top of the stairs. Cinderella's brows lifted as she was certain the girl accompanied her family to the market. It was the highlight of Anastasia and Drizella's day to parade themselves before the eligible bachelors in town. Yet there she stood in her new Christmas dress not a yard from the servant who was the rightful owner of the house.
Anastasia descended three steps before stopping in her tracks. She was dressed in a dress made of red satin. The neckline fell just beneath her collarbone, the top of the bodice was ruffled with a large, gaudy, green ribbon sitting in the center. The sleeves began at her elbows then flared out to her wrists where they were tied off with two small green ribbons that matched the one that decorated the center of the bodice. Cinderella had seen Drizella's dress earlier that day to notice that the colors were designed to alternate.
Anastasia's red curls were hidden underneath a silver shawl. Cinderella felt that Anastasia would look much prettier were she to keep her hair in its naturally straight form.
There was a hint of sorrow upon Anastasia's face. Cinderella saw the girl shiver with crossed arms. In her palm she held something with a silver chain that fell from in between her fingers.
Bruno yawned, not interested in the scene at hand. He laid his head back down on the rug.
"Anastasia, I thought you were out," Cinderella said in an attempt to discover her stepsister's reason for condescending to the servant's level instead of calling her upstairs. At first Cinderella felt Anastasia meant to give her another order that her mother so conveniently forgot, but the glum look on the woman's face told otherwise. The hand that did not conceal an object nervously played with her curls. "May I help you, Anastasia?" Cinderella asked as her stepmother trained her.
"I volunteered to stay behind to look over things here while she was out," Anastasia replied as she walked down the steps, her hand pulling up the end of her dress.
Cinderella's gaze fell on Anastasia's gargantuan feet. She remembered the moment from their childhood that she first noticed just how disproportionate Anastasia's feet to her body truly were.
It was a year before her father's passing. The three children accompanied their parents to the lake where they picnicked each Sunday afternoon. This was before her stepmother revealed her cruel nature and her stepsisters gave into their selfish, bratty sides. Still Cinderella could tell her stepsisters were not too fond of her as they would constantly tease her or find a way to get her into trouble. Still somehow when they ventured out for these picnics the girls were able to get along at least for the afternoon.
After they ate their lunch the girls strolled along the path where the other children played. Their dresses were identical in style: Anastasia's in pink, Drizella's a light shade of yellow, and Cinderella's a sky blue. She always looked her best in blue. A matching bow topped their heads.
They came along a group of boys who sought out trouble. They approached the girls and began pushing and teasing them. Anastasia fought the urge to cry while Drizella clenched her fists. The dark-haired sister used to have a nasty habit about fighting before her mother intervened with finishing school. Cinderella looked behind her to see her parents distracted. It would be too much of a risk to try and flee to them, not to mention the boys could outrun her and her sisters.
One boy laughed then pushed Anastasia rather hard. The red-haired girl let out a scream and fell in the dirt. Her left shoe fell off. That was followed by a moment of silence. One boy placed his hand on top of his hat and the other pointed at the girl's barefoot as he guffawed. The other three boys soon joined in with his laughter. Anastasia wept as the boys continued to poke fun at her. Cinderella glared, but knew there was nothing she and Drizella could do against the four of them. Luckily Anastasia's scream reached her father's ears. The man arrived on the scene which scared the boys away. He scooped up a wailing Anastasia in his arms and carried her up to where her mother waited with worry.
"Cinderella," Anastasia said pulling her stepsister from her trance.
Cinderella nodded and placed her broom against the mantle. "What can I help you with?" she asked, dreading what Anastasia wanted now. Had it never occurred to the lady that her hands were perfectly able to carry out the tasks she so readily tossed Cinderella's way.
"You sing so beautiful," Anastasia said.
Cinderella stammered to try and find a suitable reply. At long last none came.
Anastasia stood directly in front of the fireplace warming her frigid fingers. She let out a sigh then said, "Mother wants me and Drizella to sing tonight at the party."
Cinderella tugged at her stained apron. She learned a long time ago it was best to hold her tongue lest her cheek come in contact with the back of her stepmother's hand.
"I don't know how I sound," Anastasia said pulling Cinderella from bad memories. "But Drizella sounds like a dying cow." Cinderella could not hold back the giggle at that one. She watched as Anastasia's lips curved upwards a bit. Anastasia let her arms fall down by her side. "If mother desires to impress the guests she should have you sing."
Cinderella shivered at her stepsister's words.
Anastasia's eyes met with the dancing flames. To be free like those burning embers, not have to follow society's ways.
"She thinks by having us perform for the crowd at least one man in the audience will ask for mine or Drizella's hand," Anastasia said. "She is unaware of how silly her plan sounds."
Cinderella nodded. "Yes, if someone truly loves you, he will love you regardless of how you sing." If that were a trap for her to talk badly of her stepmother Cinderella willingly took the bait. It was worth her sister hearing the truth.
"You must be cold," Anastasia said also shivering. Cinderella headed to the door. She placed her hand on the window only to be stopped by Anastasia's voice. "Don't," Anastasia said looking out the window. "I like it." Her eyes fixed on the farmland covered in a blanket of white. "You know mother never let me or Drizella play in it."
Cinderella hid her smile thinking of the times she, her father, and mother would spend out playing in the snow. She felt a little joy having something Anastasia did not, but would never say it to her face.
Cinderella began to shiver. Were it from the chilled air or her own thoughts she could not say for certain.
"You'll catch a cold," Anastasia said offering her shawl to Cinderella.
Cinderella thanked her and wrapped the fabric around her arms.
"What's that?" Cinderella asked.
Anastasia opened her hand to show Cinderella a tiny, black box.
"It's for you," Anastasia said.
Cinderella stood motionless with an expression of shock on her face.
"Go ahead, open it," Anastasia said shakily.
Cinderella took the box from Anastasia's open palm. She opened the box to find a thin, silver chain supporting a red jewel.
"It's beautiful," Cinderella said hugging Anastasia. "Thank you!" Anastasia pulled away from Cinderella's embrace and her smile faded. For a second Cinderella wondered if she crossed a barrier there. Yet it was the sorrowful look in her stepsister's eyes that told her otherwise. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"You shouldn't thank me," Anastasia said not making eye contact. "It wasn't mine in the first place, it was yours." Cinderella touched Anastasia's shoulder. The latter took it as permission to continue. "Mother gave it to me when I was ten," Anastasia said, her voice shaking. "She took it from the wooden chest in your father's room only days after he died."Cinderella nearly gasped. Anastasia continued, "It was your mother's." Cinderella clenched the necklace in her palm. Anastasia looked at Cinderella and said, "I asked her if it should then be yours and she said it was my rightful inheritance."
Cinderella's eyebrows narrowed, expecting nothing less of Lady Tremaine.
Anastasia's brown eyes began to water.
Cinderella put her mother's necklace in her pocket and hugged her stepsister again. During that embrace Cinderella remembered the little girl she played with during her childhood. Those Sundays when they were not arguing amongst themselves or facing bullies, they could truly enjoy each other's company. It was a shame that one woman ruined their chance of having a loving friendship.
"Thank you," Cinderella said grinning. Perhaps Lady Tremaine's influences would not last forever. It only took one gesture, one word to break the spell. Yet it would only work if the other half was willing to try.
Anastasia smiled and asked, "Would you like some help with the truffles?"
Cinderella's grin widened as she accepted Anastasia's offer. The two headed towards the table where they would begin the baking process. There was hope of an even better process along the way. The two merely needed to acknowledge the task and work towards it without surrender. The love of a sister is everlasting.
Happy holidays to everyone!