A Good Faerie Tale

Good Faerie Tale: or Anther Cinderella story

AUTHORS NOTE:: okay, I know there are like a hundred Cinderella stories out there. But this is fun to right about so I went ahead and wrote it, I 'm still working on it though and will gladly accept constructive critasizam. I hope this is the most different version you heard, the beginning sounds common, but I hope to bring in thieves, pirates, and everything a good Faerie tale should have. Oh and when Eilly is talking about the stories she NOT talking about the ones on ffnet you people are great.  

           Cinderella, so many freaking stories about her. Oh I've read a few, most I didn't like, but some were good. My, I thought while reading one, I was so perfect, I mean, I'm smart, beautiful, brave, it's nice to think that some people see my legend that away. Also though, I came across a horrible movie, a Disney movie. I like Disney movies, but this one, O.M.G. I look so pathetic. That is why I am writing this. To correct misinformation, and tell you that the story, most people know is a bunch of bull s***. In fact it is so off base that I almost think it's funny that the story could be so contorted. Of course before I start I would like to express my outrage that "they" gave me a name like Cinderella, my name is Eileanore, pronounced long E, then Lee, " a" as in the last sound of the word duh, than just nor. Where "they" got Cinderella, I don't know, I was never so pathetic a creature as to wallow in self-pity near a pile of ashes. Well… there was a time I wallowed in ashes, but that was for a reason. Okay! Now that all this has been set upon the table, may I please begin my tale…Okay, okay; I have to give credit to a few people, as my dear darling Faerie Godmother's daughter has informed me. My fairy (yes take note that the spellings are different, there is a reason, and I will get to it later) Godmother is lazy, rather fat, and hardly does any magic, but her daughter and I get along fine. Thus my fairy Godmother will NOT be getting any credit at all in this story for any happenings at certain balls that I'm sure are still known. Alas, I must give credit to my scummy father. He married my stepmother thus making my teenage years at my own manor a living hell, though it actually turned out good (Explained later). Also the stepmother, stepsisters, etcetera, they all get credit, and most of all Frank, every thing, good and bad, I blame partly on Frank, the medalling wizard. Had he not made that stupid prophecy… anyway, now I can begin:

Once upon a time, in a far away land…

           

OH, please daddy? Just one more little chocolate?"

"Well… Okay, anything for the daughter of the woman I love. Nora, go get your sister-"

"She is not my sister, and my name isn't Nora," said a very stubborn, much younger me.

"You shall do as I say, now your sister need a chocolate."

"Take a look at her, Sir James, she does NOT need any more chocolate." I think I said the wrong thing, because before I knew it I was sprawled on the floor, a hand mark still red on my cheek. This was the very first time my father (Sir James) hit me, but it was not the last. I think I shall forever remember that fight; it was the beginning of the end of my childhood. Before my father's marriage to Lady Catherine, I had been happy. My father never came home from his trips (which is a plus) and I had my loving nurse, Natalie. She taught me many things, like how to read and write (she used to live in a nunnery where she was taught). She took me out to fields where we would sit and she would teach me all about the plants and what they do. It was ideal, everything a child could wish for.

Then he married her.

I was ten years old, and I met my father for the first time. He came to my home, and brought them along. He came out like the pompous ass he was and introduced them.

"Lady Catherine, this is the girl from my previous marriage. Eileanore, say hello to Lady Catherine." Never once did that man say the words mother, daughter, or father. I looked into the face of the woman. I thought mothers were supposed to look like Natalie, who was strong, but had such a kind face. This woman was beautiful, in a fake way. It looked like her face had been painted on, and if she smiled her perfect face would break.

I heard my father say the word daughter, and I perked up.

"Eileanore, theses are your new sisters." I thought, yes! I'll have some girls my age to talk to, and we can all make a run for it if things get bad.   

Then I saw my future sisters.

"This," said my father beaming with pride at the two beautiful girls, "is Isabel, and the is Roxanne." They were close to my age, but they were looking at me and whispering. Isabel was the younger girl (about 8) and was trying to stop Roxanne from something. Roxanne came up to me; she smiled a smile that only villains can smile.

"Oh! A sister, we shall be ever so close. Won't we Issy? Oh Nora, what a pretty name, everyone calls me Anne. Won't you be so kind as to take our things up?"

"Yes, Nora please take their things up for them."

"Okay." I said it easily, not wanting to cause trouble. I tried to carry her things up.  They were much to heavy for me; tall as I am, I wasn't as strong then. I came back down leaving the pack on the staircase.

"Father, I can't carry that up the big hallway stairs."

"Find a way." I frowned was this the way Fathers treated their children? My stepmother aloud herself a small smirk at my predicament, and Anne was laughing, so Isabel had to giggle too.

Fine, I thought, if that's the way you want it. I went back into the housed unpacked the girls' clothes and hid them in odd places. I then carried the light traveling packs up the stairs.

They came inside, and found their traveling packs empty. My father called me into the living room.

"Where are our clothes?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie, Eileanore."

"I don't know."

"Fine, that servant, Natalie, she will have to go, my Lord. I believe she did it. Nora would never do something like that." I looked at Lady Catherine, her eyes shining with malice. I turned to my father.

"It was me, father, don't take Natalie away. Please."

" So you did lie. Obviously she hasn't taught you anything. Tell her to start packing in the morning, we can't afford- er- I mean you are to old for a nurse."

"Please father, don't take my Natalie away, please."

"She will, go and you will receive no supper for your little trick and no breakfast or lunch for lying."

I was sobbing now, "Please, Daddy, please,-"

"Stop crying you, leave this room and inform Natasha or whatever her name is, that she is dismissed." His voice was cold, and a look of triumph flickered in my new mother's eyes. I didn't understand why she hated me so much, but I fled from the room. 

I'll never, ever beg for anything again, I vowed, dashing up the steps, and wiping my eyes.

"Natalie!" I jumped onto her bed, tears running down my face again.

"Eilly, what is it?" her musical voice sounded worried.

"They are gonna send you away!"

"Hush up, it's they are going to send you away, stop crying."

Slowly I stopped. I looked up at her, and she smiled, and asked me to tell her what happened.

"And I vowed to myself never to beg again," when I said this, my eyes turned hard.

"That's a good vow, and I have anther one for you; vow to yourself to never be dependent on someone or something. You are dependent on me, it's okay to love, but don't count on someone."

"So you are going?"

"Yes, I need to go."

"May I have the storybook?" I asked hopefully.

"No." She said firmly, and then seeing my face amended, " It's a book of children's stories, you already know them all by heart.  I have some books that will be a little more useful." She walked to her bed and pulled three books from underneath. One was a thick leather-bound book with embossed letters. The other two were thinner, but were still pretty thick; one had gold letters down the spin, the other silver letters. Natalie handed them to me.

"This one," she said holding up the gold lettered book, "Is a book on combat, of all types. Bows, arrows, war hammers, everything. It gives you exact instructions on how to use a sword and such."

 I opened it up and about twenty sheets of paper started to slip out.

"What is this?"

"A little addition to the book, on street fighting." She grinned at me. I would never have guessed that my cuddly nurse would have lived on the streets. She returned to being business like, grabbing the silver lettered book.

"This is a book on herbs and their uses. I have already taught you, many of the herbs in here, but you tend to forget things so you can have the book."

She pulled out the final book, looking at it with lots of love.

"This, my tall one, is a histories of battles and wars, since the beginning of our history, it also has common battle attacks, the proper way to defend a home: from a castle to a mud- and reed house. It has saved many a life."

"Natalie, why do I need these things?"

"You need to depend on yourself and these books will help. Besides I know them almost completely by heart. Now take them off to your room, and start reading the combat book, start the exercises as soon as possible. Good night, Lady Edana."

"Wait, why did-"

"I'll explain in the morning."

So I went off to bed, more confused than ever.