A/N: Welcome! Those of you familiar with me from Radiant Creatures are probably wondering what's going on. Never fear, Radiant Creatures is fine (and Chapter 24 still up for next Friday, but I digress). This project is not a fixed...anything. I was playing around with my notes, and a few scattered ideas for oneshots popped into my head. I decided to experiment, and I wanted some variety, so I went to one of those list generator sites, typed in 95 different KH characters (original, FF, TWEWY and Disney), pressed 'random' and picked the 13th name on the list.

I'll keep doing this as the mood takes me, uploading them all here. The first one is right below, and I'm surprised by how much I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Reason to Believe- The Fairy Godmother

They say mothering is a difficult task, the hardest task. A woman who has a child gives a piece of her heart, willingly or not, to rest in the heart of her baby. These are not things one can ask for, or change. It's merely the way of it.

And when a mother must be away from her child, there is great pain, great sorrow and suffering without compare to anything else in any world.

If you have ever been away from your mother, and I am sure you have, you must have felt something like it. Perhaps she was not even your mother, but someone who had a place in your heart just the same. If your mother has since passed from this world, or if you are a mother, and have lost a child in a similar way, you know how true, how deep that pain is. Nothing can ever heal such a wound, mend such a deep fracture in the heart. It is all we can do to soothe it.

That's where I come in.

"There now my child. You've hurt much, and you've hurt hard. But that pain is past now. Rest now. You've earned it."

Hers had been a warm spirit, but small, tired, "I would love to. Truly, I would love nothing more than to rest. To just...be. Forever."

"And you can. My dear heart, now you can."

"But I've a family. A husband. And...and a daughter. I couldn't possibly leave her, she's...she's only a child. And my husband, he means well, but he can be so foolish sometimes..."

Such thoughts are not uncommon. There isn't a soul among us who leaves this world without unfinished business. And she had died young.

We are not supposed to pay much mind to the worries, the sorrows, the woes of every heart that passes us by. Listen, yes, we must listen where no one else can.

But there is nothing we can do.

"Your family will manage, my dear. Many have."

"Manage? Perhaps they will. But why should they?"

She'd passed on, then, into the Light. I heard no more of her again. A mercy, maybe. And also a cross for me to bear.

The husband did not long outlive his wife. But he did manage, as so many do. He was not a bad man, but a foolish one, indeed. You have heard this story, I am sure, more times than you would care to count, so I will not repeat it.

Suffice to say, it is so easy for darkness to prey on a grieving heart. And so it was that darkness entered his house in the guise of new beginnings, a new family.

What father doesn't want his little girl to have a mother, sisters? Other girls to play with, and talk of parties and dresses and whatever things fathers believe their little girls talk about. He meant no ill. But we don't need to mean things for them to come pass.

I do not blame the stepsisters. I find I cannot, not entirely. Perhaps you have found in your experience, that one takes much of their disposition from their parents. Perhaps you credit much of what is good in you to the adults who were there when you were young. Perhaps, even, you can find bits of the bad in them as well.

Those two girls were raised by a woman so far gone to darkness there could be no return. And so they, without any light to influence them, became just as corrupted.

It was the stepmother's cruelty that shaped them, filled them with pride, vanity, a poisonous and pernicious envy. Such darkness could have damaged any heart.

Except for Cinderella's.

Her heart was all light, pure, untouchable. Not even the death of her father could shatter it. Perhaps this is why they tried so hard to break her resolve, shatter her spirit. A light that shines so bright cannot help but make darkness darker in comparison.

We are not supposed to pay much mind to the workings of other worlds. Only to our jobs, passing hearts on to the eternal. Yet I was a curious creature, and I could not help but turn my eye to the daughter of that sad, yet determined mother. And each time I looked her way, I found not the sadness, the despair I had expected, but strength of the kind I had not believed possible in one so young.

They tore her down, demeaned her, stripped her of every privilege a girl of her station was afforded in that world. They enslaved her in her own home.

But no complaint did she ever utter. No disappointment. No despair. She was humble, and she worked hard, kept her head high. Did not ask what she had done to deserve any of this, nor seek out ways to worm her way out of it.

I believe she might've toiled for those women all the days of her life and never complained. It was admirable, lovely, in fact. Inspiring.

And yet, more and more, I found myself thinking that, all of those things it may be, there was still no reason it had to be.

When we are at our lowest, we turn to our hopes and dreams to keep our heads high, to keep the light burning in our hearts.

Cinderella had a dream. A fanciful thing, deceptively simple. One night was all she asked, one night of finery, of fun and of fancy. A single break from the dull and dreary work that plagued her from waking to sleeping.

Perhaps, I thought, she would benefit from some help. After all, she could have that one night, couldn't she?

I resolved to help her. Somehow, though I knew I must not meddle directly. As it happened, fate had ordained an opportunity. One of the Keyblade's chosen, a boy with a heart as bright and pure as Cinderella's, questing from world to world in search of his friends.

All Cinderella needed was some extra help finishing her dress for the ball. They would not let her rest, would give her no time. I suspect she knew why, but was too good to say it.

I resolved to make it that she would never need to. I worked some magic, and Ventus became as good as any of the other little friends she kept about the house.

The dress was made, and Cinderella happy. I considered my work well done. Her dream could come true.

But, as it turned out, even this one dream was more than they would allow her to have.

Broken and crying, she wept in the tatters of the dress her friends had worked so hard to make. I watched, and remembered her mother's final words, before fading into the ether, "Manage? Perhaps they will. But why should they?"

She'd known my platitudes for what they were. Empty words. None of us are allowed to simply manage in life. Many might try, but nobody could hold their head high, day in, day out and show no cracks, no scars.

I realized what a fool I had been, and how much pain I had caused, giving Cinderella this shred of hope, only for it to be torn to pieces.

For the first time, I felt her light flicker, begin to dim. And I, ageless creature who could know no death, no pain or grief...felt sorrow. And guilt.

I helped Cinderella because I had to. Because even the hardest working among us need their rest. Because all of us deserve to live our dreams, even for one night.

Afterward, he came to me. Another of the Keyblade's chosen, marveling at what I had done.

"What did you do to her? I can hardly tell she's the same person."

He was a young man. Strong, determined but conflicted. I did not want to stay too long, I had already broken enough rules.

But he was looking at me, and there was an expression in his face. This young man was lost, weary. I could not leave him in this state, not if I truly cared about helping others.

"She is the same person. Disappointment merely dampened her light...but hope can go a long way to rekindling it."

"Is that what you did? Give her hope?"

I could not help but laugh, "Oh, my dear child...I can't give hope any more than I can give sadness or anger or fear. All I did was remind her what hope can do. Sometimes, that's enough."

I could tell he wanted to ask me something. But he didn't.

"My magic can only amplify that which exists in the heart, and even then such reminders are made to fade. I cannot make something from nothing, my dear."

This boy, man truly...Terra, slumped his shoulders, lowered his head. But he just as soon straightened up, as if to hide any evidence of dejection, defeat or shame.

"Perhaps you should go to the ball too."

"W-what?" he blinked, confused, "I...I don't...that's not...not really my kinda..."

"A handsome young man like you, not one for parties?" he smiled a little, which heartened me, "You don't have to dance. Simply...see Cinderella. Her light is bright, her heart kind and true. She has been through so much, yet remains strong. That is how I was able to work my magic. Look upon her, see how happy she is, how free and joyful despite all. I promise you, you will feel hope in your heart then."

I was not sure if he believed me. But he did smile, and inclined his head, "I will. Thank you..."

"I'm only a fairy, dear. Just a fairy."

He thanked me all the same, and went on about his way.

I said before you know this story, so I won't say it over again. Only that, the next day, when the search began over the whole kingdom to find the owner of the lost glass slipper, and therefore the Prince's true love, Cinderella's stepfamily tried again to keep her dream...this one even bigger than any she had ever dared hope to imagine before...from coming true.

But, luckily for me, I had yet more help.

Aqua was her name. Older than her fellow pupils, with a dignity and bearing more than would be expected of a girl her age.

By now, I knew that I could not simply back away. Not when Cinderella was so close to happiness. No rules, no edicts, no ancient unwritten laws could bar me from doing what I knew was right. I approached Aqua, advising her how to proceed. And she aided me, and Cinderella much more than I.

Afterward, she found me in the house garden, sitting by the fountain.

"I owe you my thanks, my dear," I told her, "You've made a worthy girl very happy, and a whole kingdom as well. She will make a fine queen one day."

Aqua smiled, "You're welcome. I'm glad to have helped. I...I have to thank you too."

"Whatever for?"

"Terra told me about you. What you said to him, about hope. I saw him at the castle last night, and..." she faltered, and her voice took on a soft, sweet strain, "...I can't remember the last time I saw him like that. I'm...I'm just glad he still has it in him."

"You and your friends are students of the Keyblade. You walk a perilous path. To lose hope is as good as succumbing to the darkness."

"If even a Princess of Heart can lose hope..."

"You understand," I nodded, "But do not fear for your friend. At the risk of repeating myself, there is hope for him yet."

Aqua smiled at me, "You know so much. About the Keyblade, and the princesses...forgive me for asking, but..."

"How did I come by this information?"

"Well...yes," she reddened, as if embarrassed to even ask, "I-I thought I knew all there was to know about the princesses. All my Master taught me, that is. But I never heard of the princesses having guardians."

"Guardians?" I spoke the word faintly, not quite understanding.

"People who watch over them, help them when they're in trouble, or...or their light is in danger. Like...like mothers."

"Oh. Oh, no dear. No, I'm...I'm nobody's mother."

"Maybe not. But you certainly act like one."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Cinderella had a very good mother. I can't speak for the other princesses, but...I'm merely looking out for Cinderella, the way I'm sure her mother would, if she could."

Aqua nodded, "So...you're like a godmother, then?"

And I beamed at her, "If you like."

"It suits you," Aqua looked around the garden, taking in a deep breath, "I'd better get going. I've got a long journey ahead of me, and I've barely just begun."

"Good luck to you, dear. Remember, have hope."

She paused, halfway across the garden, and looked at me over her shoulder, "I will. Promise."

There were consequences for my actions. I knew there would be. Certainly, Eraqus's pupils might say I saved a Princess of Heart and secured a better future for an entire world, but I still endangered the balance of Light and Dark, I meddled in the affairs of other worlds, with mortals.

And so I was punished to be a mortal myself, confined to a human body and cast down to the world I had saved.

But it was not a miserable existence. I did, after all, have friends there.

"You'll always have a place in the palace," Cinderella told me, welcoming me into my apartments.

"My dear, I'd never want to impose..."

"Your imposing got me here. I can't be more grateful," she took my hands in hers, "Godmother."

It was a happy life, but a short one. Darkness came, as it came for so many. Perhaps if I had not been punished as I was, I'd have been able to see it coming, might've helped the people I'd come to care about prepare.

But I've given up such thinking. It does nothing but sow the heart with weeds of doubt, rising and throttling each other. As Cinderella believed in her dream, and worked to make it come true, so must I believe that one day all this will be righted, and must work to ensure that that destiny comes to pass.

And I was not without allies in this new, jumbled world, nor was I without a purpose.

"Leon gave it to me," Sora said breezily, dropping the shiny, orange stone into my hand, "Said it was some kinda lucky charm."

"Oh my!" I took the stone gently in one hand, "Of course he would say that. He's a clever young man, but frightfully practical. No eye for these deeper intricacies."

"Intrica-whatsits?"

I smiled, patiently I like to think, at the boy hero, "This gem holds the spirit of a mighty prince from a far away land."

"You're kidding. That's so cool!"

"It's a nifty thing, yes. His strength of heart saved him when his world fell to darkness, turned into this gem. I expect with some quick spellwork you'll be able to call his spirit to aid you. Might come in handy."

"So I'll be able to fight with him?"

"Yes, but very briefly."

"Huh..." he turned the gem over in his hand, those big blue eyes of his shining, "But...but does that mean he's, like gone?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Like...forever? Is he stuck this way? I mean...there's gotta be some way we can get him back right. I...I wouldn't just wanna carry him around. I'm sure...I'm sure he's got stuff he wants to do too."

Merlin had said there was something unique in this boy. Something earnest, different from the Keyblade wielders he'd met before. Merlin is mostly all bluster, though. Sometimes I do believe he's as old as he claims, he gets so mixed up.

This boy had all Ventus's optimism, all Terra's determination, and all of Aqua's sense of duty. And, yet at the same time, there was an earnestness to him, an innocence. Other boys his age might delight at the thought of carrying a grown lion in your pocket to defend you in battle and, while that seemed to excite him, he was just as concerned with setting even this creature to right.

"When his world is restored, he should be as well," I assured him, "Until then, merely stay strong for him."

The stone flickered in his hand, bright gold. Sora gasped, "W-what was that?"

"I daresay you just gave him his first lick of hope in a while."

"Really?" he grinned, "Wow," he looked up at him, "He'll be okay, then?"

"In your hands, I'm sure he will."

And off he went to reunite with the king's men. I watched him go, feeling suddenly more hopeful myself than I had in a very long time.