Somehow, this isn't really going where I wanted it to. Charming was supposed to be a fairytale fic mostly, and then they would get to Narnia in the end, say, in one chapter or so. It wasn't supposed to turn into a Narnia fic. Despite this, I like it better than One Week, which went from being a romance to a total farce. And I'm sorry about the lack of updates. School, work, general laziness, etc.
Thanks to TrudiRose, Mandy of the Amoeba, The Blimp Alchemist, and LadyCrescentStar. You guys rock my socks off.
Long ago I should have seen
All the things I might have been
Careless and unthinking
I moved onward
If I Can't Love Her (Beauty and the Beast: The Broadway Musical)
"Ahem." There was a knocking on the open doorframe, and Charming looked up from the book he was reading.
"Er—" he said uncertainly. "Can I help you?"
The dryad standing in the doorway swayed slightly in a nonexistent breeze and tugged absentmindedly on the ribbons dangling from her arms.
"Lord Fortuna, the Lady Renoir requests your presence in one hour in your rooms," she said dreamily.
Somehow the thought of meeting with her didn't spur a worrisome feeling in his gut anymore. "Why?"
"I cannot say." The tree-woman paused. "She also requested that you retain an appetite."
He shrugged. "Sure."
Within a half hour, he had finished the book and reshelved it instead of leaving it on the table like he had the last few times. After the Faun who was the librarian had yelled at him about leaving books in the open like that for any sensitive dryad to see, he'd taken some responsibility and began putting the books back where he'd found them.
He found Doris sitting on the couch of the outer room of the suite. A plate of sandwiches was on the table next to her.
"Oh, uh, Charming. Hey. Sandwich?"
He ignored the sandwiches and her offer. "Good afternoon," he said. "You wished to speak with me?"
"Yeah. Lucy said there was gonna be a ball soon."
Charming perked up. "How soon?"
"Like tomorrow."
"And I should care why?" he said flippantly.
The hurt look in her eyes made something in his stomach twist uncomfortably, and he regretted being so abrupt and discourteous.
"My apologies, Doris."
"Nah, it's alright. I just wanted to ask if you knew about it."
"So what, are you asking me to go or something? Because if you must know, I will not be going to whatever ball they are having, and I most certainly would not go with you."
Her face crumpled and he instantly felt like the biggest heel in the world.
Damn, he thought. It's like something in her brings out the worst in me.
He decided to crush the feelings of guilt and said, "I'm sorry, that was uncouth."
She shook her head but didn't look at him. "Don't worry 'bout it."
Throwing caution to the wind, he said in his most formal, princely tones, "Milady Doris, would you like to go to the ball with me?"
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, and for once she was speechless.
Charming felt impatience welling up within him and suppressed it for once; if he was going to make nice with the Stepsister he was actually going to have to put some effort into it.
"Please?" he almost had to grind it out. Please don't make my efforts to be nice be in vain, lady.
"S-sure," she said.
"Good. I shall be around to collect you a half hour before the ball begins. Is that permissible?"
"Oh y--of course, Highness."
Charming preened under her words, and then grabbed a sandwich, turned on his heel and left. It was only until he had reached the safety of the hall outside that he realized what he had signed himself in for.
"Oh--my word," was all he had time to say before he dropped the sandwich and the ground came rushing up at him.
§
"What am I going to wear?" Charming fretted as he pawed through his bags. "There must be something I can wear to this stupid ba--ah."
He pulled out the expensive white and gold outfit, laid it on the bed, and stepped back appraise it. After eyeing the small faint brown spot on the rear of the pants from where he'd fallen, he smiled.
"This will do nicely."
§
Doris was really a fantastic dancer, Charming decided as they turned around the floor for the fifth time. By now her chocolate eyes were twinkling and she was laughing out loud. He wondered how he could ever have thought her ugly. The dress certainly helped; it was a Narnian style; long and sweeping and purple with silver vines embroidered around the hems and sweeping neckline. She was obviously wearing a corset under it; Charming had noticed her enough at the Poison Apple that he knew her waist wasn't normally that defined.
Still, she did cut quite a figure in the borrowed dress. Her hair was pulled back into a more elegant bun than her normal one, and the mole on her face was almost invisible under the layer of makeup she was wearing. Someone had plucked her brows so that they were more womanly, and the makeup defined cheekbones that he hadn't noticed before.
Not... not quite an ugly stepsister, he thought to himself. More like a changeling. Her face changed with her mood, apparently. When she was feeling sad or angry her face would darken and the apparently male half of her would kick in, making her look more like a cross-dressing man with breasts. But when she smiled she was gorgeous.
Not that he had begun to change his feelings about her, of course! Oh no. Princes simply did not marry stepsisters. Beautiful stepsisters. What would Mummy say?
"Where did you learn to dance?" he asked her as they whirled around in the fun yet stately dance of the Narnians.
"Here and there," she replied evasively. At his look, she said, "Oh, fine. My mother taught me when we were going to the Prince's ball. Cinderella got chosen, but I always wanted to remember the dance where I was really happy. So I remembered how to dance."
"Oh," was all he said. He hadn't imagined that the former bartender could have been so deep. Speaking of which... "Why did you decide to become a bartender at the Poison Apple?"
Doris shrugged. "Nowhere else to go. I knew how to mix drinks--I had to learn after our house got repo'd and my mother sent us to work in a tavern."
"Us?"
"My sister and I. Elise married a nice farmer and moved to the countryside in Landago. I kept bartending in the Smiling Moon until Mother got arrested and the guard came looking for me. She'd been arrested for fraud, you see--something about trying to sell golden apples to the fairest girls in the land."
"How did she get golden apples?" Charming asked, interested.
"She didn't. It turned out she'd been stealing sweet apples from the Katschei's garden--you know, the one over in Fleursburg--and was coating them with spun sugar with caramel mixed in."
"Sounds tasty," he remarked.
"I wouldn't know," Doris said. "She never let me have one."
On an impulse, he promised, "I'll find you a caramel apple. It may not have sugar in it, but it'll be luscious."
"Luscious." She visibly rolled the word around in her mouth. "Sounds good."
After one more dance they parted for a Faun to take Charming's place while he left to find a drink or two.
He sauntered toward where he had last seen Queen Lucy, figuring that she of all people would have drink servers hovering around. As he walked he enjoyed the gazes he was receiving from the female dancers, both human and not. He snagged a cheese hors d'oeuvre off of a platter and chewed it thoughtfully as he walked.
Why was he being so impulsive around the stepsister? There had to be something. It couldn't have been witchcraft; the port guards would have picked that up and arrested her on the spot. He finally attributed it to his efforts to be nice. They must have thrown him off. Maybe he was turning a new leaf or something.
Nah.
Had to be the 'or something.' Charming Fortuna did not change to please others. Others changed to please him.
A weeping willow dryad carrying drinks on a platter that seemed to have grown out of her shoulder bent gracefully and offered him a drink. He selected two, and she rustled upright again and breezed off. He took a sip from one, decided that it wasn't to his liking; being slightly sour, and took a smaller sip from the other. To his relief it was simply sweetened ale, and he decided that Doris could have the other one. She wouldn't mind.
When he'd found her again she was standing against the wall, alone, and he handed her the other drink.
She took it; raised it to her lips; turned the glass around in her strong hands until her mouth matched the spot where his had been. Savored the taste of him unashamedly.
A kiss across glass.
He watched, almost fascinated as did this and then as she sipped the bitter drink. Had she been watching him from across the room?
"What is that?" he asked, uncomfortable at her actions but still slightly excited.
"Oh, um, it's pomegranate wine."
"Is it good?" he asked, trying to cover up the fact that he had already tasted it.
"I think you already know," she told him.
He flushed and almost said something nasty, but he held his tongue. It was a good thing, too, because Lasaraleen swept up.
"Hello darling," she said grandly, placing a lazy hand on Charming's shoulder.
"Erm--Doris, this is Tarkheena Lasaraleen," he told the stepsister.
"Nice to meetcha," Doris said uncouthly, extending one perfectly manicured hand.
"Delightful," Lasaraleen said, taking in Doris's royal purple dress in one calculated glance.
"Tarkheena Lasaraleen, this is Doris."
He only noticed after he'd said it that he hadn't given Doris a title--a grave insult in Calormen. Thankfully Lasaraleen only raised an eyebrow, though Doris looked slightly put out.
When Lasaraleen finally sashayed off to accost some Queen named Aravis something-something, Charming turned to Doris and asked her how she liked the woman. Doris just turned her back on him and exaggeratedly swayed off, presumably to find Lucy.
Charming smoothed his hands down the suit he'd only worn once and sighed.
It seemed he had messed up yet again.