Kindred

Author's note: I wrote this a while back for a zine but I'm not sure what happened with it afterwards, so I figured I might as well post it. I may do this as a series if the mood takes me.

Also, since I am promoting it on my other fics, I might as well mention that if you enjoy this work you may enjoy my novel on Amazon: dp/B07BGSPPBY

...

She hadn't wanted to go.

In fact, she hadn't thought she would even qualify. She wasn't a proper princess, not really. She had been given leave to marry the prince based on the fact that her family name was old and had in the past been considered noble (and despite supposedly being open to 'every eligible maiden,' the ball she had triumphed at was designed to bring only the nobility to call.)

"I couldn't possibly," she protested. "I have far too much to do here. Four months is far too long; why not a week, or two?"

Charming was kind, but he didn't understand.

"It's common for royals," he laughed softly. "I met you off the back of one of my retreats. I was there for seven months!"

Cinderella shook a little in her stays, smoothed a wrinkle in her gown, before she could answer.

"We are married," she said. "If I'm going on retreat, shouldn't I be going with you?"

"That's not how it works," he sighed. "Believe me, I'd love to, but you need to have this time away with your peers. Supposedly it makes better kings and queens of us when we take the throne."

"They're not my peers though, are they?"

"You are as much a princess as they are," he told her, sternly but lovingly. "You must remember that."

…..

For all her fears, she settled in remarkably well.

It helped to know that her situation wasn't unique. Belle was a fully fledged peasant, only allowed to marry her husband because his branch of the royal family had been exiled years before. Snow was a princess, but had worked in her own castle as a scullery maid since early childhood. Tiana's kingdom didn't seem to care that she was from a humble background and a foreigner to boot. Mulan wasn't even a princess at all, just very high up in the chain of command in her country.

She had expected to be surrounded by women like those at court, looking down their noses at a loose ribbon or a wobbly curtsy, even, god forbid, a freckle on the end of a noble nose. The reality was a collection of girls and women much like the ones she had grown up with in the towns; sweet, funny, occasionally bickering, largely carefree.

The chateau they lived in was old, sometimes draughty, but was a good home to them for their stay. Outside of their own rooms, they each made their mark on the building in their own way.

Tiana took over the kitchen for all their meals. Cinderella had offered her help, but Tiana had politely rebuffed her.

"I don't like it when someone's cooking near me," she drawled, chopping carrots and onions deftly and sweeping them into a waiting pot. "Makes me nervous. Don't know why."

Rapunzel had painted most of the rooms with bright murals. Some were huge, like the one stretching over the expanse of the library's high ceiling, all unicorns and dragons, mysterious forests and wide oceans. Others were tiny, almost invisible, like the little crop of forget-me-nots hidden behind Cinderella's bed as a sweet surprise.

Merida and Pocahontas spent most of their time in the depths of the forest or the foothills of the mountain, sometimes together, sometimes not. There was no agreement or discussion about it, they just walked off after their meals, sometimes in the same direction, and they wouldn't be seen again until near nightfall. Pocahontas kept mostly to herself, but Merida had cottoned on that Cinderella was willing to mend clothes and pounced on this fact with glee. Now every other day she had a frock to hand over with a busted seam, a ripped hem or, worryingly, claw marks.

"I don't know who's worse," Ariel laughed, watching Cinderella stitch up yet another gown. "Her for getting you to do her work, or you for letting her."

"I don't mind," Cinderella answered simply, and she really didn't. She liked to have something to do with her hands.

Ariel, for her part, had a habit of going through everyone's luggage and grilling them about what she found in them. Cinderella learned that some of the stuff the other princesses brought on retreat were specifically to give to Ariel to add to her vast collection (which now included a beaverskin pelt, several painted paper fans, a hooked rug and a roll of tartan.)

Belle spent a good chunk of her time either stocking the library or reading in it. Someone had to check the library every night to make sure she actually got to bed and hadn't just curled up at the bottom of a bookcase to sleep there. She was always making promises to dust, or clear away the dishes, or weed the garden, but 'forgot' (ie: got distracted by yet another book.)

Snow was a sweetheart, and the only person in the chateau more task-driven than Cinderella herself. She didn't know what to do with herself if she wasn't helping someone, and if she wasn't given a job she tended to wander out into the forest to find injured birds or rabbits to help, where Pocahontas or Merida would find her hours later, hopelessly lost. Cinderella roped her into helping with the darning, and that kept her happy for a while.

Jasmine was lazy, and it seemed like her only real hobby was watching Rapunzel paint. The rest of the time she drank endless cups of jasmine tea, stretched out on a long cushion, complaining about how cold it was. She might not have been so cold if she had worn more clothes, (and surely somebody must have said something about that!) but she seemed to enjoy stretching out her long supple limbs to make the other girls blush.

Anna was a livewire, always getting into something. Tiana had banned her from the kitchen after 'the cake incident', a thing that they would not speak of without a shudder. Since then she tried cajoling the others into playing tennis, going for a swim in the frigid lake, or riding out to the nearest town to go shopping for sweets. Her sister Elsa, on the other hand, was much more reserved and kept to herself mostly. She had demonstrated her magical ice powers only once, to explain what they were, and hadn't made so much as a single snowflake since.

Aurora, however, was the one that intrigued Cinderella the most.

Despite having just as humble a background as Cinderella or Belle, she had the grace and composure of someone born and raised on the throne. She was unflappable, surprised by nothing, and spoke of everything with a note of humour.

"It occurred to me long before they actually told me," she said while talking about the fairies who had brought her up. "They weren't terribly good at being humans. I think if I hadn't learned to cook by the time I was five we'd have all been dead from food poisoning!"

She finished the story with a laugh, and Cinderella envied her good humour. She still couldn't find anything funny about her own past.

By the second month of her retreat, she had noticed that the other princesses seemed to pair off, naturally coming together in subtle ways. Elsa plucking a bramble from Merida's hair, Snow White trailing behind Tiana like a lost puppy, Mulan sharing a couch and a teapot with Jasmine every evening, Rapunzel and Anna giggling together under a table.

One morning she turned a corner just in time to see Ariel kiss Belle, perched on her lap, the book she had been reading tossed carelessly on the ground. She had nearly shouted her surprise but managed to hold it in, and backed out of the room.

Both women were married. To men.

But once she had seen it, it suddenly seemed to be everywhere. The other princesses held hands with each other, hugged with abandon, stroked injured skin to comfort, hinted at a greater intimacy with their body language.

For a long time she tried to explain it away to herself as completely innocent, as just girls who had become close friends bonding through tactile comfort.

Until she caught Jasmine coming out of Mulan's chambers, fixing her clothes with a satisfied grin.

…..

There was a splotch on the floor.

Reddish brown, about the size of a coin, faded into the carpet but not faded enough to be invisible. Her eye was drawn to it every time she walked past it.

She tackled it with soap, with baking soda, with good strong elbow grease, but it clung to the carpet no matter what she did. As she scrubbed she wondered what had caused it; Rapunzel's paint maybe, or spilled tea from Jasmine's teapot, or even blood from Pocahontas' bare feet.

She found herself on her knees in front of the stain long after everyone else had gone to bed. The sun went down and rose again and she was still there. Her knees ached, her hands were chafed and raw. She thought about it constantly. She kept it a secret from the others, they would judge her for not being able to get it clean. Or they'd judge her for doing common work in the first place.

(Deep down, she knew she was being unreasonable.)

Then one night, Aurora's small white feet popped into her line of sight as she ran the rough brush over the stain again and again and again and...

"Ella," she said kindly but sternly. "What are you doing?"

"There's a stain," Cinderella muttered. "I need to get it out."

"No, there's not. We talked about this."

Had they? Really?

Distantly she recalled that there was a conversation. She had agreed, then, that there was no stain. But of course that was wrong, because the stain was very much there, staring up at her through the suds.

Aurora knelt, and took her (raw, painful) hands in her own, gently pushing the scrub brush out of her grasp.

"Let's make a deal," she offered with a reassuring smile. "We'll go to bed, and if the stain is still there tomorrow, I'll help you clean it. Okay?"

It will have to be gone before dawn, or stepmother will be...

...oh.

"Yes," she mumbled. "All right."

"Good," Aurora sighed, rising to her feet and pulling Cinderella up with her. "I need to ask a favour."

"Of course," Cinderella said.

"I need you to sleep with me. Just for tonight."

Cinderella started, and Aurora laughed weakly.

"Not like that. I just need to get some sleep," she explained. "And I've been having nightmares lately."

Now that she looked properly, Aurora did look tired. Her normally lustrous hair was limp and there were dark pockets under her eyes.

"I haven't had them for a while," she continued. "But they're getting worse."

"What do you dream of?" Cinderella asked.

"Nothing much," Aurora said. "Nothing really scary...mostly it's the lack of anything to be afraid of...that makes no sense, I'm sorry..."

It made perfect sense. Cinderella knew about the cursed sleep, how Aurora had been woken up, but that slumber...knowing nothing, feeling nothing, just a vast expanse of nothing, that truly was terrifying.

"If it looks like you're sleeping too deeply, I'll wake you up," Cinderella offered.

Relief flooded Aurora's classically beautiful face. She thanked Cinderella with grace.

In Aurora's bed, she drew close to Cinderella and fell into sleep hard. Her lithe body pressed flush against Cinderella's, her breasts grazing her arm with every steady breath, their feet entwined, her hand on the pouch of her stomach.

She had slept with her husband many nights since they married, but it was not like this. She loved and desired her husband, but not like this. Every nerve ending tingled, she felt her nightclothes dampen with sweat. Unconsciously, Aurora's body moved closer and Cinderella cradled her, drew the skin uncovered by their clothes together, relishing the feel of the other woman's heat.

Aurora smiled, mumbled something, sank against the pillow.

Was this what the other girls had with each other? Was this the purpose of the retreat, to form these bonds that soothed the old wounds of the past? Or was it just some satisfying fun to be had before going back to husband, kingdom and duty?

Did it really matter, to know what it was all about?

Cinderella closed her eyes and slept.