Author's Note: Yes, I realize this is a fairly obscure fandom. I blame my children :) Plus I needed a few moments of fluff. I admit to a rather substantial inspirational roadblock lately. Beta'd only by my own eyes, as always.

Disclaimer: Inspired by the Owl City song of the same name. As usual, not making any money from this, just playing in the sandbox, I'll put everyone back where they belong when I'm done.


It was dark. Fall had fully enveloped the kingdom with it's warm afternoons, cool evenings and trees ruptured in bright bursts of color. Still, in his thick Sorcerer's robes, the night air hardly bothered him as he strolled the castle gardens, a rare bout of insomnia keeping him from his bed - he blamed it entirely on the Council of Magi's letter, requiring him to vacate his post for further training. Not so long ago, he would have been much more eager to go - it was considered a great honor to be selected to train with the elder masters of the trade - but that had been before he had gone and done absolutely the worst thing he ever could have possibly done: fallen for the common Princess. He certainly hadn't tried, in fact he'd spent the last decade trying to keep her as far away as possible. Not that his - no, the overly cheery, feisty princess had any intention of letting his plan succeed; never mind that she was oblivious that that was his plan. It wouldn't have been much of a secret plot if he'd told her, after all.

He was surprised when he came across another restless soul standing still as stone in one of the lesser visited corners of the gardens. Both a silent curse and a silent prayer of thanks were offered up when he recognized her, wrapped in a warm, fur lined cape, as she turned at the sound of his boots on the flagstones.

"Mr. Cedric," she smiled, though it hardly seemed genuine. Her entire demeanor seemed sad, in fact.

"Princess Sofia," he nodded shortly. "Am I intruding?"

"No, no, please stay."

She had grown from a bright and eager young girl of nine into a bright, beautiful young woman of nineteen, the benefits of age filling out the corsets of her dresses, which he had noticed in recent years were hardly ever her once preferred shade of lilac. Her hair was longer now, a cascading tumble of honeyed brown curls falling past her waist, swept back in front only by the tiara she wore each day and her eyes were still the same clear, summer sky blue, unknowingly begging him to fall in and drown in their warmth. The last remainder of her childhood was still draped around her neck, though it rested just below the hollow of her throat now.

"You're up very late," Cedric remarked nervously when the silence grew too much for him.

"I couldn't sleep." She shrugged and a moment later gasped daintily, "Oh, Mr. Cedric, look! Fireflies!"

And indeed there were, a great mass of them twinkling up out of some other niche in the gardens. They were like rising stars floating their way, blinking in and out of sight.

"Oh, they're so pretty. I haven't seen fireflies in so long!" One of the flashy little bugs lit on her outstretched finger tip. Finally, a true smile stretched her lips and her eyes sparkled in the lightning bugs' light. Another and several more of its friends joined the first, sheathing Sofia's hand in twinkling light. Cedric fought himself against the urge to slide his hand across her narrow waist and draw her close. She was quite likely the most beautiful like this, when she was caught up in the simple wonders of life.

Several of the little bugs had latched onto him as well, speckling his robes, while the rest dazzled them with their impromptu show.

"Are you ready?" Sofia's voice startled him out of his admiration of her.

He hurried to meet her gaze and cleared his throat nervously, "R-Ready?"

"You're leaving in the morning, aren't you?" She frowned.

Cedric stammered again, "Oh, y-yes. I am. I'm sure Uldred will be a sufficient replacement for me."

"Will you come back after your training is complete?" The fireflies still danced around their heads and clung to their clothes.

Sofia refused to look at him while they spoke, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her; he compulsively felt the need to soak her in as much as he could, to memorize every feature, so he'd always remember his Princess. "Perhaps," he didn't want to promise. He didn't want to promise her he would, only to break that promise should Uldred prove to be so talented that King Roland chose to turn the other Sorcerer's temporary position into a permanent one.

"May I tell you a secret, Mr. Cedric?"

"As you wish, Princess Sofia."

"I think I'm in love with someone."

He felt his heart clench. "Oh? One of the Princes your brother James is close with, I suppose?"

"No, he's not a Prince; he's not even royal." She chuckled, then frowned. "But I don't know if I'll ever see him again. I'm scared I won't and then Dad will marry me off to someone once my opportunity to choose myself has come and gone."

"Why do you think that?" He tried to clear the frog from his throat, "That you'll never see this young man again?"

Sofia shrugged and spoke cryptically, "It doesn't matter. I think I'll retire now; good night, Mr. Cedric, I wish you every success in your training, I know you'll be brilliant." She turned immediately and left.

"Good night," he whispered to the empty air, the fireflies drifting away as she did, "Sofia."


It was Wassailia. The entire castle hummed with cheer for the holiday. This, this he had missed - the holiday's had been much quieter for him in recent memory. It had been five years since he'd left this place; he'd been shocked when the King had written to request he return to his post just days following his completed time with the Elders. Apparently Uldred had disintegrated himself in a potion gone horribly, horribly wrong. He'd accepted immediately, of course, eager to serve his King once more, and even more eager for the chance to see his Princess again… Unless she'd been married off in the years since his departure. A frown tugged at his lips - he hadn't considered that line of thought until now.

Baileywick was upon him then, startling him from what had promised to be a brood session of epic proportions. "Ah, Cedric! You made good time on your return, I see. I trust you still know the way to your tower?"

"Of course," he said with far more calm and confidence than he was suddenly feeling.

"There have been many changes while you were away," the cheery Steward continued, beckoning him onwards, "Princess Amber was married to Prince Zandar not long after you left, and Prince James is engaged. King Roland requests you join the family for dinner this evening,"

"What of Sof- Princess Sofia?" Cedric asked, hardly interested in the other goings on of the kingdom.

"Oh, well she's still holding several suitors at bay; just between us two," Baileywick lowered his voice, "She's been quite adrift for years now, she doesn't much seem to care one way or another. Like the light has gone out of her."

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling - she was still here, she was still untied - and nodded sagely, "I see. Well, I may have a potion I could brew for her, I will have to check my books."

It was a bold faced lie, of course; Cedric had no idea if such a potion even existed, but the fib seemed to soothe the Steward and he bowed his head gratefully, "It is good to have you back, Cedric; we shall see you at dinner."

He was left to himself then, and he fled back up the familiar staircases, longing to reach the sanctuary of his tower. Time. He needed time to reconstruct his confidence; it wasn't something he'd had to do since six months into his training. He'd positively flourished and grew out of his awkward, nervous habits with the Elders - a benefit of age, he supposed; his mother had always said he was a late bloomer. Still, his mid-thirties seemed a bit ridiculous for that.

His chambers were largely the same as they'd been when he left, though the walls had been whitewashed at some point, and artifacts and wands and other tools that weren't his still littered the workshop. Uldred's, he guessed, and now his, seeing as the other Sorcerer had met an untimely demise and had no other family to speak of. His private chamber was completely bare, save the furniture, thank goodness; after seeing the things left in the workshop, Cedric had dreaded finding a dead man's belongings still taking space in the bedroom.

Unpacking gave him the time he needed to calm down and gather himself for the evening ahead. When the time came to go down, Cedric took a deep breath and steeled his nerves, a single cylindrical wrapped package clutched in his hands to abandon under the tree in the hall before entering the dining room.

"Cedric!" King Roland exclaimed, grinning at him as soon as he was in the room. Cedric cringed. "It's so good to see you again! You have to tell us all about your training."

He didn't even have time to respond to the greeting before the other royals cried out various surprised questions, though he hardly noticed. His gaze had found her the moment James spun around to look at him. Oh and she was just as he remembered, radiant as ever in her emerald gown. He felt a bit of smug, secretive pride well in his chest that the vest underneath his black robe matched her dress. Coincidence was a wonderful thing. She looked dumbstruck to see him for a moment, before a tiny smile tugged her lips.

Dinner, at first, was awkward. He felt very out of place and had to keep pulling his gaze away from Sofia subtly watching him across the table - they were plying him for stories, so he tried to keep his eyes bouncing between the three other royals he sat with and all eyes were on him. By the second course, James had slapped his shoulder hard enough to almost send him flying out of his chair laughing at his tales four times, which somehow had relaxed his tense nerves. By dessert, James had swung at him enough times that he was dodging most of the good natured blows.

When he tried to slip away afterwards, the Queen caught his arm and spoke quietly enough that her family would not hear, "I insist you stay, Cedric. My daughter may not say much, but I still like to think I know her well enough to know that your absence has caused her melancholy."

"Majesty?" Cedric squeaked, allowing himself to be led to the hall where the tree and Wassailia candle waited.

Queen Miranda smiled like she was sharing a grand secret with him, "I'm quite sure my Sofia is quite smitten with you, Cedric."

"And- And that doesn't...bother you?" he stammered only slightly, "I am ten years her senior and a mere Sorcerer."

"And Sofia was a commoner until I married Roland; with James marrying and securing Roland's line, my husband and I are comfortable with Sofia choosing her own path. The only question that remains is how you will respond."

She released his arm and the conversation was lost to the singing of carols and exchanging of gifts. He watched as they were opened, one by one, and even opened one himself from the King - who had apparently been the only one aside from Baileywick to know he was returning - until the last one was retrieved from beneath the green branches.

"It's for you, Sof," James smiled, passing Cedric's gift to his sister, "Doesn't say who it's from though."

"Thank you, James," she replied, gently pulling away the ribbon and parting the paper to reveal the gift within.

It was just a large jar, carefully sealed, with several twinkling fairy lights floating inside; a simple gift compared to the others, but it had been very carefully crafted by Cedric himself.

Sofia looked up at him from the jar with wide, wonder filled eyes. "The fireflies - you remembered," she whispered.

"Of course I did, how could I forget?" he replied, just as softly, drawn by unseen hands to her side.

"I thought… I thought you'd forget me." Sofia admitted, looking down at the jar her hands cradled.

"I could never forget you, Sofia," Cedric said, feeling emboldened by the Queen's whispered words. His fingers gripped her chin and with the barest of pressure, raised her face to meet his gaze, "I missed you."

Then she was hugging his neck, her "faux-er flies" having been shoved into her brother's hands, "I missed you too, Cedric," she sobbed.

One hand held her waist to steady her, the other tangled in her honeyed curls at his collar. He felt a burst of butterflies - or perhaps more aptly, fireflies - in his stomach when she'd simply called him by name, without title or formality, and squeezed her closer.

"So Cedric," James' laughing tone snagged his attention from the princess in his arms, though she refused to let him go. There was endless mirth in the young man's eyes, "Would you like to ask my dad for permission to try and win Sofia's hand?"

Cedric felt a ball of panic ricochet around inside him, turning wide eyes on his King, but when he met Roland's gently smiling gaze, felt the panic lose its hold and spoke quietly to avoid tripping over his words, "Yes… I think I would."

Their courtship was brief and their wedding blissfully small. Sofia moved into his tower and Cedric the Sensational became Cedric, Prince Consort. And they lived out the rest of their days together, happy.