My name is Phillippa, and I have no energy. EXAMS SHOULD BE BURNED! (sigh)
Thank you to. . .
Aerinha -- You may have Penelope. She says that she may gesture A LITTLE, but it isn't as bad as I say. Yes. She is in denial.
Lulai -- Thanks. And yes, Wart Cheek is his real name. No. Not really.
Miss Piratess -- This one's just for fun.
mythicalmemory -- Hey, I don't mind! Please, review away! Hm. . .well, you may picture Cinderella beating Woody with her fairy godmother's wand, if that makes you feel any better.
Tiger Lily21 -- Yes, I got Just Ella for a birthday present a while ago. It's good, but not as good as Ella Enchanted. . .wait and see who Fiona falls for.
If the Shoe Fits. . .
(A little mix-up from the beguiling world of fairy tales)
Friends and People Your Wish Were Strangers
Fiona was in a comfortably soft bed, covered with silky covers. "Is it satin?" she asked Penny.
"Of course not!" Penny said, flinging her arms and hitting Woody on the head. Woody fell onto Fiona's bed. "Oh, no, princess," said Penny, still gesturing. "Now you'll have to take care of him."
"What? No, no, I don't want to, I don't want to, please, please, don't make me, anything but that . . ."
But Penny was all ready gone.
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"Now, miss, I knows you lucky an' all, cause you a princess now, but I wouldna wanna be you for anythin'. Tossin' and turnin' and moanin' in you's sleep, gettin' fret upon by strangers, an' that doc-man who alluz frowns at you so 'orrible . . . no, miss, I be happy as meself. I gots a lot o' lovin' from me pappy, an' me mammy, an' me grammy, an' all. No, miss."
Fiona was dimly aware that someone was speaking to her, but she could not imagine who it could be. She had a rough voice and the speech of an uneducated servant. Fiona opened her eyes just a crack and saw that the girl in question was not facing her. She sat up a little and wiped her eyes. Wow, she thought, staring at her hands, that's a lot of eye gunk.
"Though I admit the prince a catch an' all, an' it would be awful nice to live in the seat o' luxury an' all, I think I be a bit better off than you -- " With a shriek, the girl dropped her duster. "Oh, miss, oh, miss, begging your pardon, miss, begging your pardon," she said, speaking faster than anyone Fiona had heard before this. The girl made movements akin to running full tilt to the door and never coming back, but Fiona stopped her.
"No, wait," she called.
The girl halted immediately, turning around slowly. Tears fell down her sunken cheeks as she sobbed, "Oh, please, miss, oh, please, I didna mean anythin' by it, miss, oh, please . . ." Fiona felt shocked to her core. The poor girl was carrying on because she had been 'so bold' as to speak to her while she slept? Something was intensely wrong with this castle.
"Come here," she said, patting her bed. "Please." The girl inched forward slowly. "Come on," Fiona said, firmly. She finally came up to the bed, still weeping. "You don't have to worry." The girl gave a small sniff. "What is your name?"
"Moll -- Moll -- Molly," the girl stuttered.
"Molly, despite all you have heard, I am not who you think I am." The girl was positively silent. "I'm just a girl, just a girl like you."
Molly, who was staring at her shoes as if they were the most interesting thing she had ever seen, gradually looked up at Fiona. "What?"
"I'm not a princess or lady or anything. I am an orphan who lives with my brother and sister. I'm only three steps above you, if that," Fiona explained slowly.
"An orphan? Really?" Molly asked, leaning forward so much that Fiona could see the small dirt smudges underneath her eyes. "But, then, why is the prince marrying you? I don't understand."
"Do you know what, Molly?" Fiona asked, feeling so worn out she could hardly believe it. "Neither do I. Neither do I."
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"Oh, Fiona, you'll never believe it!" Molly said, rushing through the door.
Penny raised her black eyebrows at Fiona, seeming to say, 'A maidservant girl, dearie? Is this really respectable?' Fiona could not care less if it was. She had found a good friend in Molly.
"What happened?"
"The prince! He's -- " Say dead, thought Fiona, dead, say he's dead. " -- wants to see you!"
Fiona groaned loudly, leaning against Penny. "Why?"
"Well, of course, you're his fiancée after all. Of course he wants to see you!"
"No, he doesn't," Fiona muttered, rubbing her throbbing temples. She had suddenly gotten a headache at the thought of Woody coming to see her. "He wants to see Cin-drella."
"Well," chirped Penny brightly, ignoring Fiona's last statement. "That means you'll have to be extra-beautiful for your future hubby!"
Yikes! Penny's right. Woody really is my future husband, thought Fiona. If I do not do something soon, I will end up married to Woody for good. This is a nightmare! A nightmare that I will not wake up from . . . Penny rung the bell for the maidservants and they all came trooping through the door -- as if they had nothing better to do in the whole world except waiting to be called. Spooky.
Fiona stood helpless as she was pushed, pulled, prodded and perfected. Her hair even curled a little -- something Fiona had never seen it do -- and looked oddly soft. Another corset was strangling her waist, and she was wearing a dark blue dress that showed excessively too much skin -- especially on her top half. It was February, for goodness sakes! Fiona was going to catch pneumonia if she dared to go outside.
She turned herself slightly towards the window in her room. That was not very likely. Fiona had not been out-of-doors since . . . forever, it seemed. She had gone outside to see a jousting tournament in October and another in November. She had escaped for the first snow and Christmas. And New Year's. Even the servants were able to leave the castle more than she did.
"'Tis all 'bout a'tude, Fiona," said Molly, yanking on her arm like a five-year-old, even though she was the same age as Georgia. "If you go into it, depressed an' moody an all, it will be depressing an' all."
Fiona supposed Molly was right about it, but she was still unhappy. She had not had the misfortune to run into Woody (despite the fact that they lived in the same wing) for over two weeks. It seemed like her luck had finally run out and Fiona was none too pleased about it. Woody had been as wooden as ever at the dinner table, not saying anything to Fiona. It must be a royalty thing, thought Fiona. The king and queen had not said anything to her either.
Penny nudged her out the door, and Fiona gave a sad half-wave to Molly. Walking down the hallway with one of her ladies-in-waiting, Fiona started to chew on her nails, which she often did when she was nervous. "Stop that," said the lady-in-waiting. Madeline, thought Fiona. No, Margaret. Maxine? Mabel? What is her name? "You'll ruin your manicure."
Fiona did not care three beans if she ruined her manicure. A plan needed to be mapped out. Otherwise, when she arrived in Woody's room, she would not have any idea of how to say it. How about I say, 'Prince, I am terribly sorry but you have made a mistake. Contrary to what you think, I am not Cin-drella. Furthermore, you cannot marry me. There are at least three reasons why you cannot. Firstly, I am a penniless (all right, so that's not absolutely true, but it's close enough) orphan peasant. Secondly, I am not beautiful. I cannot give you beautiful children. Thirdly, I do not like you, you do not like me, and it will not make either of us happy to be married to each other. Goodbye, Your Highness, and good luck.' That sounds diplomatic enough even to satisfy Woody.
The lady-in-waiting whose first name started with an M opened the door to Woody's sitting room, filled with plush furniture and huge, expensive-looking paintings and tapestries. Fiona took a deep, calming breath that didn't turn out to be expansive or soothing. Her pale fingers once more rubbed her temples and she gave a lengthy sigh. It's now or never. Yuck. That sounds like the title of a book Georgia would read, with no plot or character development.
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