50 Drabbles: Cinderella

by Apple and Kiwi

100-word drabbles about Cinder and William from Little Red's Fairy Tales.

Title: 50 Drabbles: Cinderella
Author: Kiwi
Pairing: Cinder x William
Summary: One hundred 100-word drabbles about Cinder and William.
Rules: (self-imposed) Must be exactly 100 words; no dialogue.
Warnings: Contains some sexual situations, and, of course, generous helpings of male/male slash.
Kiwi's Note: I've wanted to write some short stories about William and Cinder for almost as long as we've had them, but have never been able to come up with more than a handful of scenes and no real way to connect them all into a tangible plot. Alas, such is my limited imagination. But at least writing drabbles gets my little moments written out, and that's the important thing. So here are a lot of bits and pieces about our lads. :)

Accomplished

Cinder surveyed the interior of the little beach-side cottage with an understandable amount of pride. It had taken a lot of back-breaking labor, but the home he'd built together with William was now ready for them to live in. The fresh sea breeze wafted in through the many open windows, all paned with glass he'd made himself, and mixed with the delicious odors of new-cut wood, sawdust, and sweat. William stood next to him, surveying their new residence with a sort of distant restraint, but Cinder knew him well enough he could tell William was just as happy as he.

Aggravated

Prince William had finally seen the last of his long string of governesses and been allowed a proper tutor, but there was one small hitch in his success: It was now impossible to sneak out of the castle to meet with Cinder in the afternoons. His mornings were filled with lessons and his afternoons with more lessons. His only free-time in the daylight hours was from noon to one-thirty; time enough for lunch but little else. He was too young to appreciate the irony; he'd finally gotten what he wanted, and now he had it, he'd be happier without it.

Aggressive

Cinder pushed William backwards onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddled his hips. William's face showed shock for a moment, but then settled into its familiar smirk. Cinder smirked back, then leaned down to kiss him. He allowed his hands to rove up and down William's torso, delighting in the feel of hard muscle beneath light cotton. He knew William would try to take over soon; he always did. Sometimes Cinder let him, but he wasn't going to tonight. Tonight he was going to be on top, and William was going to take it and like it.

Annoyed

Cinder couldn't quite understand how it was that William could talk him into doing almost anything, and it annoyed him a great deal. He would never pull half of the crazy and potentially life-endangering stunts he did if it weren't for William. Of all the things William had asked of him over the years, though, dressing in drag rated his top-most annoyance, and that William knew of Cinder's willingness to do practically anything for him and took advantage of it at every opportunity rankled. However, as annoying as it was sometimes, he knew he'd still do it anyway, if asked.

Anxious

The first day William went off to look for work on his own, Cinder felt like a nervous mother-hen. William was young and strong, Cinder knew. His body could handle the labor. But could his pride? Could a prince of the blood, who had never worked a day in his life, truly stoop to earning his living through manual labor? Cinder didn't get much work done in the shop that day. He kept leaping from his workbench to pace to the front of the store and peer anxiously out the window toward the busy docks a way down the beach.

Apathetic

For several days after William had snubbed him in the glass shop, Cinder descended into a weird sort of apathy. He drifted through the hours between morning and evening without really noticing what he was doing. Work held no interest for him, and he took little notice of the near-constant screeching of his sisters. If he'd realized what he was doing, he would have been disgusted. Afterwards, it never occurred to him to think on how oddly he'd acted in those few days, or how strange it was that William's cold behavior could have such an enormous effect on him.

Apologetic

It was stupid, not even worth arguing over, and yet, there they were. They'd both shouted a bit and then William had stormed off, slamming the front door behind him. Cinder paced the confines of their cottage for a while, anger quickly cooling and replaced with worry and regret. Where had William gone? He strode to the front door and opened it, intending to search for his lover, but William was already there. Cinder opened his mouth to speak, and saw his apology reflected in William's face. William caught him round the waist and kissed him; no words were needed.

Artistic

He would never be the master that Cinder was, but William still enjoyed joining him from time to time in the back of the shop, where Cinder supervised his rough attempts at glassblowing. There was something soothing and exhilarating about creating shape and form in the molten stuff, even if the shapes were abstract at best and bizarre at worst. Cinder was always encouraging, and he liked most of what William managed to do (or he said he did). Anyway, there were a handful of things he'd done decorating the cottage they shared, displayed proudly next to Cinder's professional masterpieces.

Ashamed

Cinder could not believe what he had just done – he was having difficulty wrapping his mind around the enormity of it. He'd run off with his friend-turned-lover without so much as a thought for his step-mother and –sisters. At the very least, he ought to have stayed long enough to arrange for a proper funeral, but he'd given in to the rash impulse to run off with William with no thought for anything else. The woman who had raised him as her own was dead, and he repaid her by running away. He was absolutely the worst son in existence.

Bashful

It had been so dark the first time they'd made love, William hadn't been able to see much of anything. Now it was light enough to see and be seen, and he felt suddenly shy. Of course he'd been without clothes in Cinder's presence before; it was difficult to go swimming in the summer without disrobing, after all. But this was the first time Cinder was regarding him with a lover's eyes, and he was suddenly irrationally worried that somehow he wouldn't measure up in the daylight. Cinder smiled at him, eyes raking over his body proprietarily, and William blushed.

Blissful

Lying in the shade of a large tree, with his head cushioned on Cinder's chest, William drowsed happily in the afternoon heat. They were both exhausted from the masque and then from...later activities, not to mention several hours worth of walking and riding to get out of Tempus afterward. By all rights he should be fast asleep at this moment, but for some reason sleep eluded him. Not that he minded, despite his exhaustion. He had somehow obtained his most impossible desire – Cinder's love – and he was perfectly content to remain conscious so as to bask happily in that knowledge.

Bored

Cinder lay on his back in the warm grass, staring disinterestedly at the sky. William hadn't come round after he'd gotten off work this afternoon, and he didn't want to go home yet. Without his friend, the rest of the day was looking terribly dull. The idea of playing with his sisters, something he'd loved to do before he'd met William, seemed horribly tedious. Having a male friend his own age had spoiled him for the quiet, gentle games the two girls enjoyed. Unable to work out something he felt like doing by himself, Cinder drowsed in the sun, bored.

Contemplative

William sat at his desk with his chin propped on his fist and stared out the window. He wondered what it would be like to run away, to truly abandon his comfortable life and pick up one completely foreign to him. Of course, he'd only do it if Cinder came with him, and Cinder would never abandon his step-mother and step-sisters to take up with him, even if they were best friends. Friends. William closed his eyes and smiled softly, contemplating that word. To think that if it weren't for Cinder, he would never have known how amazing friendship was.

Cranky

Too much work, not enough sleep, and not enough sex. William didn't try particularly hard to open his eyes much further than was required to see as he stumbled from the bedroom to the toilet. Cinder was awake already, in the kitchen. When William appeared and slumped down at the table, he wished him a cheerful good morning. William muttered something back grumpily. Cinder set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, which he consumed with ill grace. Then back to the bedroom to dress, then out the front door to work after a quick good-bye kiss.

Cynical

Life was great – for other people. Just as his sister's godmothers were fond of preaching, there were folks destined for True Love and Happily Ever After. What they meant by 'folks' was actually 'royalty'. This included himself and his sister. William figured his silly younger sibling would eventually end up Happily Ever After. She didn't have the Fate of the Kingdom weighing on her shoulders, after all. No. Someone somewhere had decided that that was his responsibility, which meant there were no Happily Ever Afters for him, because what he wanted didn't fit the role he was expected to fill.

Determined

William squared his shoulders and walked resolutely towards the busy docks. He was not going to allow Cinder to support the both of them, not when he was perfectly capable (he assumed) of working himself. He wasn't a spoilt prince anymore. He had left that comfortable life behind to be with Cinder, and he was determined that he wouldn't be a burden on his friend-turned-lover because of it. They had heard that there was always work for able-bodied young men at the Bella Notte docks, so that was where William was going, though he had no idea what to expect.

Dirty

William was covered in sweat, salt, and dust. His hair was coming out of its tail to hang in loose, limp hanks around his face, his skin itched with dirt and sunburn, and all he wanted to do was bathe. He'd never been this filthy before, even as a boy. Now, though, it wasn't unusual for him to return home at the end of each day in such a state. However, even though he looked foul and smelled worse, the knowledge that Cinder would greet him at the front door with a smile and a kiss made it all worthwhile.

Disbelieving

Cinder could not believe what William had told him. His friend Will was Prince William, an aristocrat, heir to the throne of Tempus? There was no way! A prince of the blood wouldn't sneak off in cast-off servants' clothing to make nice with commoners. It wasn't done. The other boy was trying to pull something over on him, playing a prank, having a laugh at Cinder's expense. Or trying to, anyway. Cinder wasn't stupid, and he said as much. Will would have to try a lot harder if he wanted to trick his friend into believing such a wild story.

Drunk

They were leaning against one another, weaving through the darkened streets of Tempus on the way to sneak William back inside the castle. Cinder was plastered, and William was only slightly less so. That isn't to imply that his faculties were functioning properly, however, because they weren't. He proved this by leaning in and kissing his beglassed friend, who was so drunk William wasn't certain he'd noticed. Even if he had, he probably wouldn't have cared, as he had other things to think about in the next moment when he dropped to the ground and was sick in the gutter.

Ecstatic

A girl – William had never bothered to remember her name – had broken Cinder's heart. His friend was sitting next to him beneath the oak where they always ate lunch and sighing frequently, saying nothing. William didn't say anything either. He was angry at the girl for treating his friend so badly, but was also silently rejoicing because she was out of Cinder's life. He draped a sympathetic arm over Cinder's shoulders, and his friend relaxed slightly under the weight. William could have cheered. Despite his friend's hurt, he was going to enjoy this rare moment for all he was worth.

Frustrated

Why was it his duty to produce a royal heir? His sister had just as much royal blood as he; why couldn't she do it? William didn't for one moment believe the load of bollocks about it being the duty of the firstborn to continue the royal line. His father had been born a peasant and was the third of four sons! But whenever William reminded him of this, and pointed out his sister's equal eligibility to bear heirs, his father shut his mouth with a snap, went puce in the face, and stonily refused to discuss it any further.

Furious

Someone had made a smart-ass remark to him about Cinder, and William had hit him in the face without a thought. That flare of anger had two immediate effects: The first was that his hand now hurt like the blazes, and the second was that a small scuffle among the loud-mouth, his friends, and William's friends broke out. He'd never been in a bar fight before, and was unused to brawling, but the fury that gripped him was such that what combat training he'd had as a prince aided him in avoiding the worst of the blows aimed his way.

Giddy

Cinder couldn't explain the irrational fluttering feeling in his gut whenever he looked at William. Well, he could, he knew why he was feeling it, but it still confused him even as it delighted him. Every glance, every smirk, each brush of William's fingers against his, left him feeling like he was floating in the clouds. He was with the one he loved and with the one who loved him, and he felt like he would burst with happiness...or soppiness. He felt like a hormonal teenager all over again, so head over heels nothing penetrated his perpetual daze of wonder.

Gloomy

Their friendship grew stronger and deeper as the years passed, and William spiraled closer and closer towards...something. He knew that 'something' could never be. It was obvious to him that Cinder liked women at least as much as he himself disliked them. They would both marry eventually, he for duty and Cinder for love. At least his friend would be happy, blissfully oblivious to the torment the crown prince would no doubt endure at the hands of whatever silly chit his parents forced him to wed. As they grew older, he often became depressed by the hopelessness of his situation.

Grateful

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he pushed him, how he stretched him nearly to breaking, Cinder always forgave him for it. When he'd been younger it had been a sort of game to see how far he could push his friend to get him to snap, but as they'd both grown and matured, William had ceased deliberate attempts to stir him up. These days he relied on Cinder's forgiving nature not for his own boyish satisfaction, but to save him from the constant threat of marriage his parents dangled over his head when he demanded assistance.

Guilty

He would never admit it aloud, but William often felt badly for some of the things he convinced Cinder to do for him, because usually those things were part of his own hidden agenda. Convincing Cinder to dress in drag and participate in the archery tournament had meant more to him than simply weaseling out of marriage. The time he'd spent helping Cinder to don his outfit had been motivated mostly by his own selfish desire to see his friend in a state of undress. He should just admit his feelings to Cinder, but was too cowardly to do so.

Happy

Ten-year-old Cinder was surprised and pleased when William turned up at the glass shop where he was apprenticed. He hadn't expected to see the other boy again once they'd parted ways the previous week, and was happy to be proven wrong. William wanted to play, and Cinder told him he was free from his duties after three o'clock, so William said he'd come back later. He came back the next day, and the day after, and soon spending time together after he was done working became a happy routine, and the days passed quickly with William to look forward to.

Hot

It was one of the hottest days William could remember. Cinder suggested they go swimming, but William had reservations; he'd never been taught to swim. It wasn't thought necessary to his education. Cinder said that was ridiculous and that he'd show him how. So they walked a way into the woods to a clearing containing a clear pond. It was shoulder-high on Cinder at the deepest point, so there was little danger of drowning. Shucking off his clothes, Cinder took a running leap into the water and landed with such force he managed to splash William. William grinned and followed.

Horny

If the servants ever remarked on the number of occasions his bedding was soiled, William never heard of it. It was intensely embarrassing, but he couldn't help himself. He saw Cinder every day, and fantasized about him each night before sleep. Often in the middle of the night he would half-wake from an intense dream involving Cinder, some sheets, and little else, and there was nothing to be done but pick up where the dream had left off. Truthfully, it felt so wonderful despite the embarrassment, he felt he could cheerfully tolerate the gossip should it ever reach his ears.

Hurt

William had figured Cinder wouldn't believe him when he revealed who he truly was, but his friend's disbelief still hurt more than he had expected. He didn't let it show, of course, only shrugged his shoulders and allowed Cinder to laugh at his so-called poorly thought-out joke. But he had wanted so badly to be believed...He supposed there was plenty of time for Cinder to come around, though, and at least when he finally accepted the truth, William would have the satisfaction of being able to say 'I told you so.' That prospect in mind, he let the matter drop.

Idiotic

Sometimes William would stop in the middle of whatever he was doing and ask himself what the hell he was thinking, pining away after his best friend with no hope for reciprocation? It rarely happened, but when it did he felt horribly stupid. At those times, he wished to the Overpower that he could change how he felt, could erase those feelings. But then he would see Cinder and he'd forget all about it; Cinder's voice, his eyes, the way he moved his hands...William was enamored. He loved everything about Cinder. So what if he felt idiotic because of it?

Impressed

The first time William saw one of the delicate glass statuettes Cinder had made, he was awestruck; he couldn't believe that his friend was so talented. He was just a scrawny peasant boy, after all, with no sign of pedigree or breeding about his person or in any of his mannerisms. That a person like that could produce such a work of art almost defied belief. He said as much, and Cinder scowled and punched him in the arm, thus proving his declaration to be true. Statuette forgotten, William struck back, and very quickly after two boys were wrestling playfully.

Jealous

He'd not realized how deep his feelings for Cinder were until one day shortly after his sixteenth birthday, when Cinder told him about the girl he had slept with the previous night. He had to struggle to prevent himself from showing the jealousy he felt, not of Cinder, but of the girl. In that instant, he wanted to hit his friend, to yell at him, to order him never to look at anyone else but him. Instead, he forced himself to pretend interest and enthusiasm as Cinder related the deed. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

Lonely

There came days every once in a while when William couldn't manage to get away in time to meet Cinder for lunch. On those days Cinder would walk out to the large oak where they always shared their noon meal and eat by himself. The quiet, shaded glen was filled with birdsong in the spring, the chirping of cicadas in the summer, and the calling of wild waterfowl in the autumn. But even with those companionable background sounds, Cinder always felt the absence of his companion acutely, and often returned to his apprenticeship in the afternoon in a foul mood.

Lovestruck

It had been coming on so gradually William hadn't realized it properly, but one day when he was fifteen, he glanced at Cinder just as the other was flicking his longish bangs from his eyes. He felt like he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, and he stared dumbly at Cinder's profile for some moments before Cinder turned to look at him. He blinked his dark eyes and grinned at his friend, and William returned the smile somewhat shakily. Cinder said something and he nodded, and tried very hard not to remember that he was in love with him.

Mischievous

Prince William was somewhat frightened of bugs, and Cinder sometimes played on this weakness of his friend's when he was feeling bored. They were laying in the grass drying off in the sun after an afternoon spent swimming in the woodland pond when a large, stately beetle walked by his head. Grinning, Cinder carefully picked it up between thumb and forefinger and deposited it on William's bare stomach. The prince's voice cracked when he yelled in surprise. Cinder laughed gleefully even as his friend rounded on him and shoved him off the grass and into the mud by the water.

Obstinate

William was very, very grateful that there was no way his parents could actually force him to get married. It had been done in the past, he knew, though mostly to princesses – or so he'd heard. He knew his refusal to find a bride and produce an heir was breaking his mother's heart and giving his father an ulcer, but he didn't care. He was going to hold out as long as he could. While he remained unwed, he could still pretend that Cinder might one day declare his undying love for him and allow him to shag him senseless.

Optimistic

Today was the first day of the rest of their lives together. They weren't certain where they were going, they didn't have much money between them, and Cinder was stewing in guilt for leaving his family behind, but William felt fairly positive all the same. Cinder's firm grip on his hand, fingers laced possessively between his, was causing the sorts of flutters in his stomach he remembered from when he was fifteen and realizing he was in love with Cinder for the first time. Cinder glanced at him and smiled, and William impulsively tugged him close, smirked, and kissed him.

Pained

The news relieved him even as it pained him; his friends Red and Arachne had taken care of his sisters and Margaret's funeral after he'd abandoned them to run away with William. He was glad to know that his family had been provided for, but mention of them dredged up painful memories and heaps of guilt as he dealt once again with the horribly immature way he'd acted that night. He'd have to visit his sisters soon, to see for himself that they were alright. It probably wouldn't assuage the guilt at all, but maybe it would help a little.

Paranoid

Sometimes William could feel his mask slip, and was certain Cinder had seen, would figure out what it meant, would push him away in disgust. He would tell himself that Cinder was oblivious, that he certainly wouldn't be looking for such feelings coming from William of all people, but his paranoia would always win out in the end. Usually this meant he would make up some excuse to not visit Cinder for a day or two, until he felt he had recovered his composure. What his friend thought of his odd behavior he didn't know, and was afraid to speculate.

Restless

For about a week after he'd successfully snuck from the castle, William was restless, eager to try once more. He wanted to meet Cinder again. Enduring all the proper manners servants exhibited towards him after Cinder's refreshing honesty was driving him mad. The days passed exceedingly slowly while he worked out the best time to try. He wouldn't have very long to search for Cinder before he was missed, and then he'd have to go back. If anything could be said about the prince, it was that he was a perfectionist. Failure on the first try was not an option.

Shocked

Cinder knew he was staring dumbly, but he couldn't help it. William had told him, but he hadn't believed it. Well, he believed it now, though he was still utterly floored that his best friend really was the prince of Tempus. He was mounted on a black horse next to his father, who rode by his side, coolly surveying the people who had turned out to see him. His disdainful expression was painfully familiar, and so was the smirk he threw Cinder when he caught sight of him gaping from the doorway of the glass shop and their eyes met.

Sick

William had had far too much to drink the previous night, for reasons that had seemed good at the time and which he couldn't for the life of him recall this morning. Even the gentle rustling of the sheets as Cinder slid out of the bed seemed to echo in his skull, and the quiet inquiry after his health was like a shout. He curled into a ball around his stomach, and tried not to think about the way his mouth tasted like vomit or the way the sunlight seemed to penetrate his eyelids and stab directly at his retinas.

Surprised

Even though Cinder was a year older than him, William had the advantage of height and weight. He had little problem wrestling the other boy to the ground whenever the two roughhoused, which was often. No matter how many times he lost, Cinder would still cheerfully challenge him to another bout without so much as a thought. William always felt vaguely astonished by the smaller boy's determination. He was properly astonished one day when, after years of constant defeat, Cinder pinned him to the ground. The dark-haired boy grinned triumphantly, and William's heart skipped a beat for the first time.

Terrified

The realization that he was in love with his best friend frightened him somewhat. But that was alright; that was something he could accept and come to terms with, despite the initial oddness. However, the knowledge that his best friend and also his One True Love was under some sort of curse that only he could break, and would have to – in the middle of a crowded party, surrounded by visiting dignitaries and nobles, and dressed in drag on top if it all –that terrified him. This was not the sort of thing being a glassblower's apprentice prepared you for.

Thoughtful

There were many quiet moments between himself and his friend; Cinder often took these peaceful times to surreptitiously examine William out of the corner of his eye, and wonder how in the world he had ever managed to become such close friends with such a cold, aloof person. He cared a great deal for William, he reflected, and was incredibly happy in his company – most of the time; sometimes the prince could be a complete arse – and even when neither had much to say, he reveled in his presence. Time spent with William was often the highlight of his day.

Tired

When he arrived home at the end of each day, all he wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep. Somehow, when he had just been fantasizing about living together with Cinder as lovers, he had pictured things somewhat differently. The bed, he had decided, was only to be used for sleeping between rounds of sex. In reality, much to William's chagrin, the only time the bed he and Cinder shared was used for activities other than sleeping was on Sunday when neither of them worked. Tonight would be no different. He wanted to care, but was too tired.

Touched

He hadn't expected anything for his birthday. In fact, he could hardly remember if he'd even told William when it was. It was a dagger, exactly like the ones he was always admiring in the smiths' stalls at the market, and something his mother was likely to tell him was completely inappropriate for an eleven-year-old boy. Which was, of course, why he would have to hide it somewhere where she wouldn't find it. He grinned at William, who was watching him anxiously. This was the best birthday gift he'd ever received, and he said as much. William smirked in satisfaction.

Uncomfortable

Cinder had no idea how to act around William the first time they met after he'd realized who his friend really was. He couldn't believe he'd been being all buddy-buddy with the prince of Tempus. The young man who would one day grow up to be his king! He almost hoped Will wouldn't come round anymore, to spare him the awkwardness. But there he was, the very next day as always, in his usual servant outfit and with his usual smirk firmly in place. Cinder was confused, but also relieved that it looked like their friendship would continue as before.

Worried

William's parents were determined to find him a wife and marry him off before he turned twenty-one. This knowledge worried him more than he would ever admit. He didn't want a bride, unless somehow he could stuff a certain black-haired glass-blower into a white wedding gown and lead him to the alter. When his father decreed that an archery tournament would be held to conduct a search for his future wife, William fretted incessantly. He could do nothing to stop it. He could only let it run its course, and live with the outcome whether he wanted it or not.

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Comments and critiques are always very welcome. Also questions. If you've been wondering 'what if...?' about these lads, ask! It might find its way into a drabble. :)

Kiwi