Author's Note: So, I just saw the new Cinderella movie. I'll be honest, I've never been a big fan of Cinderella, and the movie was pretty much what I expected. It was better than the Disney version, which I dislike, but not as good as Ever After, which I adore. Still, it was well done, and I could not help but think about turning it into a fanfiction. Cinderella stories are classic, and many of the aspects of the lives of the characters in Revenge make them perfect for such a tale; the abused foster child, branded as daughter of a terrorist, the rich 'Prince' who wants to love who he loves in spite his family's expectations, the man of means who swoops in to look after a young girl like some kind of fairy godmother because of a promise he made her father. It writes itself really. Naturally, I had to take a crack at it. Obviously, some things will be different from the show. Everything should explain itself eventually as the story unfolds, but if you have any questions, feel free to review of private message me and I will respond.

CinderEmily

Chapter One

Once Upon A Time; it's how all great fairytales start. Once Upon A Time holds a promise between its words, the promise of that final phrase, happily ever after. By the age of seventeen, Amanda Clarke knew that "Once Upon A Time" was a lie.

As a child, she loved the phrase. Her father would start stories with it, telling her of brave princes and princesses who had great adventures and found love along the way. She had believed him. She had believed a lot of things back then.

Then the men came, and took her father away, and she was told the truth about him. Her father was a monster. He hurt people. He was responsible for the downing of Flight 197, the deaths of thousands of people. She didn't want to believe it at first. Her father was a kind man. He read to her before bed and made her feel safe during thunderstorms. He got her Sammy, her beloved dog, for her ninth birthday. He loved her infinity times infinity; a phrase he had said so many times she knew it by heart now. But they had proved it was true. They had broken her faith in him, and he had made no effort to contact her and plead his case. All she could assume was that he was ashamed, and guilty, and did not love her as she had thought. The father she knew could never have done those things, so she was forced to conclude that she never truly knew him at all.

Amanda ended up in the foster system, and each home was worse than the last. She made friends in a few, but then they or she would be relocated. Nobody wanted her. She was damaged. She was a terrorist's daughter. She was bullied at school, at home, of the street. Everybody knew who she was, or rather, who her father was, and everybody hated her. Each foster family reminded her what a waste she was, how the world would be better without her.

When she was thirteen, her foster father liked taking his turn with the girls. He tried for her and she bit him, which just made him angry. Eventually, he broke her. He broke them all. Well, except one. He didn't break Emily. Emily Thorne was Amanda's foster sister. In the beginning, they had loathed each other, but they had soon learned they weren't that different. They were both broken and lost. They both just wanted to be loved. Emily and Amanda had become sisters, and one night, when their foster father had tried to take his turn with Amanda, Emily had fought back. She had gotten her hands on a knife from the kitchen, and she had stabbed him. She kept stabbing him. Then, he stopped breathing, and Emily was taken away. Amanda swore she would find her some day and thank her, if she herself survived.

Her next foster home was the one that stuck. They were cruel. They taunted and teased. They made her do demeaning things and treated her like a slave. However, they rarely hit, and never raped. Amanda had learned to be thankful for what little she had. As long as she did what she was told, they ignored her, which was far better than some of her past homes. She let them get away with it. She hated being there, but she didn't want to risk being shuffled again and ending up somewhere worse.

When she was sixteen, they took her out of school. Her foster mother did not want her precious daughters, Ana and Andrea associated with the Clarke family. Amanda was fine with that. School was a retched place anyway. Both students and teachers treated her like a blight on their perfect society. She was far happier staying in the house when nobody else was there. Graduating was just participating in a system she didn't believe in, and she knew that even if she graduated Suma Cume Laude from the best medical school in the world, she would never get anywhere in life. She was marked as David Clarke's daughter, and that was all anybody would ever see her as. Still, she got her GED, just in case. There was a cover charge to take the test, but somebody took care of it, or so she was told. She knew it could not be her foster family; they would never care enough. Amanda didn't like getting charity, but as she didn't know who was responsible, she decided to let it lie, and least for now.

Finally, Amanda was seventeen. She had less than a year left in the foster system. Once she was no longer a minor, she could leave. She didn't know where she would go. She had no money, and her odds of getting a job were pretty low. Still, she longed to be free. Her life would always be hell, she knew that, but at least it would be her own. So she marked off days on her calendar. She imagined her foster family did the same. It was now May, she had mere months to go; she just had to hold on.

Daniel Grayson smiled at the look on his sister's face. She looked so happy, and so smitten. Daniel had a complicated relationship with his family. His parents could be cruel, manipulative, difficult, etc. He always loved them, but he didn't always like them. However, he always liked Charlotte. She was the bright spot in the family, better than their parents, better than him. She was pure, untainted. She was honest and sweet. She didn't judge people. He admired her so much for her kindness and goodness, as well as her bravery and sense of rebellion. For example, right now, he was driving her to see her boyfriend, Declan Porter.

Declan worked at a bar in Montauk. His dad was a lower-middle class bar owner and his mom was MIA. He lived in a tiny apartment above the bar for financial reasons. Declan was pretty much lower middle class. That shouldn't matter at all, but to a Grayson, it was all that mattered. The Grayson's were rich and powerful. They were basically royalty, top of the food chain of the Hamptons Elite. Daniel was bound for Harvard, and he was then expected to take over the family business with some upper-crust clone of his mother by his side. It made him sick to think about it, but unlike Charlotte, he hadn't the guts to go against it.

"Mom and dad won't be happy that you're still going out with Declan." The Grayson patriarchs had made their opinion on the union quite clear when Charlotte had introduced them to Declan. They were subtle and polite, but it was clear that neither Victoria nor Conrad found him a suitable companion for their daughter and expected her to terminate the relationship ASAP.

"They know that I'm going to see him."

In spite of himself, Daniel couldn't help but laugh, "You told them?"

"If they have a problem with him, then it's exactly that, their problem. Not mine. Not Declan's."

"Yeah, I get that, but I'd at least think you'd sneak around for a bit."

"What good would that do? There not going to change their minds no matter how much time I give them to come around, and I wouldn't want Declan to think I'm ashamed of him, because I'm not. He's caring and sweet. He's been better to me in the four months I've known him than the parents have been the last fourteen years."

"Yeah but, Char, they kind of control our lives. We were raised spoiled, privileged. Can you honestly tell me you could survive if they decided to pull the plug on everything."

"I don't think they'd cast me out penniless, but if they did, I'd find a way. Declan doesn't have a penny too his name, be he's happier then mom and dad put together. And if I needed, I know he'd take me in, help me learn to survive on my own. I'd rather be rich with love than dollar signs."

"I admire your bravery, Char. I don't think I could ever do it, walk away from everything."

Charlotte shot him a knowing smile, "That's 'cause you haven't met the right person yet." Daniel rolled his eyes. Ever since the elusive love bug hit her, Charlotte had preoccupied herself with his love life. "She's out there, Danny."

Daniel shook his head, "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure mom and dad all ready have her all picked out for me."

"You used to believe in going against the current."

Daniel's mood darkened. He knew what she was talking about of course. Or rather, he knew who she was talking about. Sara Munello, the supposed love of his life, who had died in a car crash he caused six months ago.

Sarah was a waitress with a dream of being a pastry chef. Daniel had met her at the diner she worked in. He had flirted for months, trying to get up the courage to ask her out, knowing his parents would never approve. Finally, she had brazenly told him that if he did not show up at her house to take her out for dinner that night, he better never come back to the diner. They were together for two glorious months. They snuck around behind his parents back. He had introduced her to how the other half lived and she had shown him how to do his own laundry and make pancakes from scratch. It was like a fairy tale.

Then, he had decided it was time to tell his parents. Sara was amazing. They would understand. They had to.

But he had been so nervous, and he had only one cure: alcohol. He may have been sixteen, but when you have enough money, it's not that hard to get your hands on the stuff. Daniel had been a social drinker for years. This was different though. He had guzzled the whole bottle before he picked Sarah up.

They made their way to Grayson Manor. It was dark and Daniel was drunk. He thought he saw something in the road. Maybe something had been there. Maybe not. Maybe his drunken, scared mind had made it up. Whatever the reason, he had swerved. Then, he had crashed. Sara had screamed, and he vividly remembered the look of terror on her face, the light going out of her eyes. Then she was gone, both from his life, and this world.

Daniel had escaped with a few broken bones that had long since healed. His father said it was because he had more to do. He had a destiny. He was a Grayson. He never told his father who Sara was, that he had been taking her home to meet the family. He had said she was a girl he knew that needed a ride. Of everything that happened that night, lying to his parents about Sara was the thing he regretted most. He had dishonored her memory because he was a coward.

Charlotte had done with Declan what he should have done with Sarah from the start, what he had lacked the guts to do.

If he could do it over …

But he couldn't. He knew that. He could never get that night back. He could never do it right. He had chosen that night to be the cowardly prince that his parents wanted, and much as he regretted that choice, it seemed too late to change it.

"Daniel?" Charlotte asked. He could hear the concern in her voice, and he wanted to shrug it off and reassure her. He wouldn't though. He was always real with Charlotte. She was the only one who had known about Sara. She was the only one who knew the real him.

"Just be careful Char."

"I know you think it all ended with Sara, but there's more out there for you. You don't have to let mom and dad control your life just because of what happened to her."

"It's not what happened, Char, it's what I did. If I had just done what was expected of me, if I hadn't brought her into my life, she'd still be alive."

"You made a mistake. A colossal mistake that you can't take back, but it shouldn't hold you back from ever finding someone. Sara wouldn't want that."

Daniel shook his head, "I'll follow mom and dad's plan, like I should have done in the first place."

"Bad things will happen either way, Danny. But you get to choose what kind of man you are moving forward. You want more than that world, and I think you know it just as much as I do. You're just scared."

Daniel shook his head, "Stay naïve little sister, and enjoy your epic romance while it lasts."

Charlotte gave him a sad smile, "Someday, you'll meet somebody who is worth moving on with your life, standing up to mom and dad, letting out the amazing guy who I know you are. I just hope, when you meet her, you have the courage not to let her get away."

Charlotte got out, and ran to Declan, who was waiting for her with open arms. Daniel watched the fourteen-year-olds embrace and wished he could go back to a time where he believed anything was possible. He wished he could be as brave as his sister, as self-sufficient as people like Sara and Declan. But he was almost eighteen now. He was too old for childish fantasies and fairy tales. There were no happy endings in The Hamptons, only Stepford Families and backroom deals. And there was nothing Daniel could do to change that.

There was a knock on Amanda's door that morning. It was strange. Normally, her foster-family didn't offer her courtesies of knocking; they were more the just-burst-in-with-commands sort. They only played at politeness and affection when somebody from the state was coming to check up, and Amanda was usually given notice in those cases. They needed her to play the role too. She could always refuse, and she might even get away with it without getting hit, but she also might be relocated. As horrible as this foster family was, it was better than some of the ones she had been in. She was almost out, and making a scene now could only make her life harder. She was too smart to act out in anger; better to keep her nose down and count the days.

Keeping her nose down worked fine; they usually left her alone unless they wanted something, in which case, they were often rather rude. Which brought Amanda back to the knocking. Slowly, cautiously, she got out of bed and headed for the door. She opened it a crack to see her stepmother standing there with a worn-out, beaten up suitcase.

"Pack."

Simple direct instructions. That was a bit more like it. Still, Amanda needed a bit more information.

"What?" She asked, trying to keep the rude, annoyed tone from her voice.

Her foster-mother rolled her eyes as though Amanda were the simplest, most dimwitted creature in the world.

"We have been invited to spend the summer in The Hamptons. My cousin Lydia is giving us use of her summer home while she straightens out her divorce. Poor thing doesn't exactly want to deal with the vultures who summer there at the moment, and who can blame her, but that's hardly the point. Of course, I could just leave you here, but you could rob us blind or burn the place down. You're hardly trustworthy. Now pack, because we're leaving in two hours. You can bring anything you can fit into this ratty old thing."

Amanda had only have heard what her foster-mother had said. Her mind was stuck on two simple words: The Hamptons. The Hamptons; where she had lived with her father. The Hamptons; where her life had been happy. The Hamptons; where here life had fallen apart. The Hamptons; where Jack was.

Amanda had met Jack Porter when she was eight, and in the one-year that they had known each other, they had been best friends. Jack had been her first crush, with his adorable curly hair, his dimples, the way he had worked so hard to make her smile. They had met on the beach, and quickly become inseparable. He had been sweet and generous and giving. After everything had fallen apart, when Amanda had been at her lowest, unwanted, unloved, abused, only thinking of Jack had brought a smile to her face.

She had been forced to leave Sammy, her beloved dog behind when her father was arrested. She had left Sammy with Jack, and Jack had promised to look after Sammy. Amanda had made a promise too. "I'll come back for you." She had said. She had been talking to Sammy, but she had also been talking to Jack. And now she was going home. Time had passed, and she had changed. Her father's name was synonymous with names like Stalin and Hitler. She was the daughter of an infamous terrorist, and maybe that was all Jack would see. Maybe he would see what everybody else saw when they heard her name, or worse, maybe he wouldn't even remember her.

The fear almost made her wheeze, but at the same time, she knew it couldn't be true. Jack was too good; he was incorruptible. He would remember her, and he wouldn't judge her.

As she packed her scarce belongings into the pathetic suitcase, plunked it in the van, and hid in the trunk so that nobody would associate The Hampton's newest socialites with "the little wretch," she couldn't help but smile. She was going to see Jack Porter again. She was going to see Sammy again. She was going home.

Author's Note: I hope you guys liked the first chapter. The next one should be up soon because it is already written for the most part.

So, I know right now it probably seems like this is going to be Jemily. Anyone who has read my other stories knows I love Jemily, but trust me, this is a Demily, though it will play proper tribute to Jemily.

I'm really excited about a lot of things about this story. All my Revenge stories so far have taken place after 2x22, which means I have not been able to do anything with Declan/Charlotte even though they were one of my favorite couples of the series. I really wish they could have ended up together, and I am excited to get to explore their relationship in this story, even if they will be more sub-plot than plot in all likelihood.

Reviews are appreciated.