A/N: Hey guys! So, I decided to start writing for Pokespe, since I've been obsessed with the fandom for nearly three years already, and have miraculously never written anything for it. This is a retake on Cinderella, with Specialshipping being the main focus. It'll probably be a two-shot.
I'm thinking about starting a mini-series for Pokespe fairytale retellings, with Oldrival, Mangaquest, Frantic, and maybe Commoner. We'll see.
But, without futher ado, enjoy!
It was a cloudy Tuesday afternoon when her stepsister came running in with the news.
Prince Red of Kanto was hosting a ball. A royal ball. For all of the eligible young ladies of the kingdom, because he was looking for a bride.
A princess.
A queen.
Yellow tried to ignore the little pitter-patter her heart gave at the sound of it. After all, she had outgrown such childish romantic fantasies the winter of her seventh birthday, when the doctor had been only a couple of seconds too late to save her father's life. When she had been left behind with a horror of a step-mother, and a too-perfect older stepsister. When she had discovered that the chores were endless, and the days long and weary.
When the opportunities for a better future had blown away with the wind and the scream of her stepmother's voice.
There was absolutely no way that a prince, let alone Prince Red of Kanto, would ever look at her twice, even if she was thrown into a royal ball right under his nose. He had saved the country more times than one could count; had donated his time to hospitals and orphanages; was expected to be the greatest king in Kanto history. She was nothing but a wisp of a girl with crushed dreams and a life of work.
Yellow walked out of the drawing room with her head down and her hands tightly clasped under the filthy white apron of the only plain brown dress she owned.
It was a week after the announcement of the ball when she first met him. Her hair had been a mess, her dress tattered, her heart racing. He had stood a foot and a half taller than her, and she had spent the entire encounter wishing he hadn't been so Arceus cursed perfect.
The peaceful little perfume shop on the corner street had been unusually crowded due to preparations for the next week's ball, and she had been just one more desperate servant, one more desperate girl, doing her last minute shopping.
Ginger Spice for Mother, Cerulean Sea Breeze for Misty.
And nothing for me.
The list had run through her head like a broken record player, imprinting itself into her memory so she would not forget. And that was how she'd mumbled and stumbled her way into Prince Red of Kanto in the corner perfume shop.
He'd apologized, he'd asked her if she was alright, he'd given her one of those brilliant smiles every girl in the land swooned over. And she'd known by the glimmer in his eye that he had found the petite, innocent-looking little blondie girl squeaking in front of him to be rather amusing.
He'd been the perfect gentleman (although she couldn't fathom why he'd been in the perfume shop in the first place...).
She'd looked like a fool.
But somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to care about the details all that much. She had met Prince Red of Kanto. He had spoken to her.
For the rest of the day, her entire being had tingled with exhilaration and glittery glee and anticipation for the next time she would see him again.
If she would see him again.
(She'd spent the entire night blaming his stupid perfection for every ounce of bit-back attraction she might have felt for him).
Their next encounter was an accident, if nothing else. A stroke of luck.
A mistake.
He was riding by on horseback, dark hair gleaming in the morning light. She was standing in the thick of the woods, tucking a flower behind the ear of her little stray dog, Chuchu. It might have been the shuffling of her feet in the grasses, or perhaps a low snuffle from Chuchu, that drew his gaze to her.
A lonely girl seeking comfort from the thousands and thousands of unruly wild roses.
A boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Their eyes met for only the briefest of seconds, but she had seen the recognition flash in his gaze.
And then he was supposed to turn away. To leave behind the memory of the boyish-looking peasant girl he just kept bumping into, and save his energy for his more worthy company. To forget that there was a world outside of his fame and wealth and glory, and move on.
But he had looked at her, as if she might have been the only person he had ever truly seen, and slowed his pace until his hunting party was several steps ahead of him.
They went on, and he stopped completely.
The silence thickened between them, and Yellow could feel the heat of the stares they were receiving.
She knew that there was going to be talk. That the striking young men of the court who had joined the Prince that day were already gossiping among themselves. A girl, they would say. A dirty blonde girl that wasn't worth two pennies of His Highness' time, and yet there he was.
They would speak of his compassion. His interest in the wellbeing of his people. How poor she must have been, and how stupid and desperate she must have looked.
Yellow wanted to run and hide and disappear as just one more golden-headed wildflower among thousands.
But somehow she could not find the strength to run from him, or shy away, although every ounce of sense in her body was screaming at her to move. Was telling her that he was not good for her. Was warning her that, by encouraging this meeting, she was only dooming herself to yet another hopeless romantic fantasy.
Because she was frozen in wonder, in defiance, in pure and utter terror for what was to come of this. A tiny pink blossom fell from her fingertips, the rose petals drifted from where she had amassed them atop her hat. Chuchu barked and pulled closer to Yellow.
And Prince Red of Kanto gave her the slightest of smiles and a tip of his hat.
She knew the moment he started to walk away that she was gone. Blown away with the breeze wafting lazily in his wake. Crumbled to dust like the ashes in the depth of her fireplace.
After all, nothing but heartbreak was in her future now. He was a prince. She would watch him meet a beautiful girl at the ball who was smart and refined and every bit as wonderful as he was, and she would sit on the sidelines as they fell in love and got married and grew old together.
He was destined for far more than Yellow could ever offer.
And it would never happen.
She could only hope that she was strong enough to survive the aftermath of Heartbreak...
Misty looked beautiful that night. The moment that Yellow laid eyes on her stepsister, she knew that Red was going to fall in love. With a chin held high with confidence and bright green eyes dazzling with excitement, Misty was nothing but a godess.
A princess.
A queen.
Yellow knew that she should be happy for her sister; happy that at least someone in her life would be getting a happy ending. Even though Misty did not care for her, and had not once expressed any form of sisterly love towards her, Misty was still the only sister she had.
Be happy for her.
And besides, there was no scenario that Yellow could imagine where her attending the ball ended in happiness for anyone. It was better if she didn't go at all.
Better if she never saw him again.
"Yellow, I expect the dishes to be washed and the house to be spick and tidy when we return!" Her stepmother gave her a final glare before bustling out the door. Misty floated in her wake, and Yellow wondered if she would ever be able to look like that one day.
And then they were gone.
Off to party the night of their lives, off to meet Prince Red in person and actually talk to him, and to charm him with their witty remarks and bright smiles.
Would Misty feel her heart pounding the same way Yellow's did every time she saw him? Would Misty stand from afar and find satisfaction from just being near him, from knowing he was there, like Yellow did?
Would he steal Misty's heart like he had so blatantly taken hers, or would he wait for her to willingly give it up?
A lump rose in Yellow's throat, and she knew that it was over now. Any chance she'd ever had of meeting and dancing and laughing with him had driven away in her stepmother's carriage. Prince Red of Kanto would exist as no more than a ghost in her mind now.
And...and she would leave this experience stronger and better able to face the cruel wrath of fate.
She would NOT be broken.
But then the tears came in great walloping sobs, and the pitter-patter of droplets on her skirt reminded her that, once upon a time, the only pitter-pattering had been that of her whole, idealistic heart.
Who was she kidding?
She had been broken for so long, it might be impossible for her to ever be whole again. She had fallen apart before any of the smiles or hat tips or perfume shops ever happened. The day Misty had come running in with the announcement of a royal ball was the day Yellow had shattered to pieces.
She stumbled out the back door and into the garden, bare feet finding comfort in the warm springiness of the earth beneath her. Her form crumpled into a tiny, fragile ball against the house's walls, and she berated herself as onslaught after onslaught of tears wracked her body.
Stupid girl. Stupid heart. Stupid falling in love and princes and balls and stupid hope that he would ever see me as more than just another pitiful subject.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid...
She sat outside on the moonlight baked earth for what seemed like an eternity. Time stopped still, and there was nothing except for the labor of her own breathing and the calamity of her own thoughts. Not a single bird called. Not a single breeze stirred the clear spring air.
And that was when the girl had appeared out of thin air.
She was tall, but then again everyone was tall in Yellow's standards, and had light brown locks draped neatly over her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep blue, like gemstones, and she was wearing a dress of the palest gold.
Yellow was about to question her for trespassing when she spotted the two pale, periwinkle blitzed wings sprouting from the girl's back.
An angel, come to take her for a better place?
No. A faerie, with a crown of forget-me-nots and a long silver wand grasped in her right hand and a smile brighter than the moon.
Yellow gazed in wonder, not daring to breathe, until the girl suddenly turned around and glared at something, or someone, behind her. It was a boy Yellow hadn't even realized was there before. He too possessed sheer wings, only of deep mahogany, and looked rather...depressed?
"Silver, what did I tell you about introductions?!" The girl hissed at her companion, who simply stared back at her with a perfect deadpan. His long red hair swayed slightly with a light breeze, his dark gray suit blended perfectly with the hazy night.
The female faerie rolled her eyes and shifted her focus back onto Yellow, who was standing perfectly still. There were two faeries. Speaking in front of her. To her.
She had read about faeries in story books; fell asleep dreaming about how one day she would meet one who would whisk her out of her miserable life.
Was this the day?
No. Of course not. They were probably here to mock her; to laugh at how depressing her situation was, and how insignificant her pain was in the grand scheme of things.
She braced herself for their verdict, but it never came.
Rather than turning her fury onto Yellow, the brunette girl beamed at her, and called her all sorts of adorable as she pulled her to her feet. The redhead boy stared monotonously forward, as if almost bored with his predicament, but didn't show any outward signs of agression. Within minutes they had her seated on one of the wooden benches in the garden, and the brunette faerie introduced herself as "Blue".
"I'm your faerie godmother, sweetie!" Blue giggled excitedly, and turned to her companion. "And this is my accomplice-"
"Willing assistant," the red haired boy cut in.
"-willing assistant and underling, Silver". Blue's smile never faltered, but her eyes took on a slightly dangerous glint, and Yellow shivered slightly. This was probably not a person (or faerie or whatever she was) that Yellow wanted to mess with.
However, Silver remained unperturbed, and simply pressed his lips together in obvious annoyance.
Yellow could do nothing but stare at them in silence, heart pounding and unsure of what happened next. Faerie godmother. She, Yellow of the Viridian Forest, orphaned peasant girl of the Kanto kingdom, had a faerie godmother.
The quiet dragged on for several awkward heartbeats before Blue let out a sigh. She grasped one of Yellow's hands in both of her own, in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture.
"Yellow, as you're probably well aware of, you are in a SERIOUS dilemma, munchkin. And I'm-"
"We."
"-we are here to get you out of it!" She rolled her eyes. "Silver, would you like to do the honors?"
Before Silver could reply, or give any sort of reaction, Blue sat down beside Yellow and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Yellow almost trembled at the touch, but it felt nothing but warm and friendly.
Faerie godmother. Miracle-worker.
Friend?
Blue's assistant/underling/willing accomplice Silver stepped forward and pulled out a wand of his own, ebony black and crooked all over. He wielded it with the deftness of one who knew his trade well.
"He's supposed to be a messenger faerie, but it got too boring for him, so now I'm training him on wish granting. This way he can be promoted Genie, or perhaps even Godfather status." Blue whispered proudly to Yellow, but all the blondie could focus on was the line of bright, golden light that flashed from Silver's wand.
A pumpkin to a golden carriage.
Mice to men.
Her ratty, worn clothes to a dress of the most splendid shade of silver, fitted with a tiara and necklace to match.
Yellow knew it was happening, but part of her was still convinced it was too good to be true.
It was magic.
Magic that was taking her to Prince Red.
"All done, pumpkin! Now, just remember, Silver isn't the most skilled of the faerie kind-"
"Hey!"
"-so his spells aren't permanent. Your dress and coach and carriage are going to revert back to their normal state at approximately..." she checked her wrist, where a watch magically appeared, "...twelve o'clock AM, so don't forget to keep an eye on the time, alright? Now go get 'em, tiger!"
Yellow flushed and nodded minutely, noticing Silver give Blue a "don't make her too uncomfortable" stare out of the corner of her eye before she stepped with skirts lifted onto her shining golden carriage. Elation filled her, and she knew that this had already been the most exciting night of her life.
Whatever happens at the ball, I don't care. I met my faerie godmother. One miracle is enough for one day.
Even though she knew deep down that Prince Red mattered more than any droplet of magic. That she would perhaps be even more heartbroken if she went to the ball and found him already infatuated with another girl.
But at least I get to go. At least I have even the slimmest of chances.
Just as Yellow was about to tell her horseman to start the carriage, Blue rushed up to her and grasped her forearm.
"I almost forgot!" She pulled two shining, silver slippers from the folds of her dress. "Here. These'll compliment your outfit perfectly. NOW you can go!"
Yellow carefully slipped on the shoes, surprised to find that they were made of...was that glass?
But Blue had already stepped back, muttering about incompetent apprentices and lousy magic work and how shoes were the most important part of any outfit, before Yellow could question her about her choice of footwear. The coach began to move forward before Yellow had even seated herself, and she plopped down heavily, taking a second to balance herself. Yet when she turned to give her thanks to her faerie godmother, she found nothing but a dusting of glitter coating the earth where Blue had just stood.
Yellow was alone again.