"I wish that I could be the man you need. . ."

All right, small note here, Akane won't accept Ranma's proposal. If someone proposed to you using the words, "more like a mild torture" in reference to spending their life with you, what would you do? Me, I'd take out his kidneys, but I'm an extremist. They have a long way to go before they can be together, so . . . I'm kind of sorry about that, I like reading fics where they get together and that anticipation is satisfied sooner rather than later. But, in this case, it won't happen—I'm having a lot of fun with this one, and I'm going to drag it out.

Thank you all for reading this, double thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Moving on, I don't own Ranma ½ or any of the fairy tales I've dropped them into—Furrypelts, Cinderella & Briar Rose (kind of), The Enchanted Hind, or The Yellow Dwarf. More fairy tales will come, and I won't have the rights to those either.

Akane woke groggily to some sharp, pungent scent, and the sound of babble above her.

"Good, the smelling salts are working—she's coming out of it. Who's the guy, anyway?"

"His name's Ranma. Feel free to toss him in the dungeon."

"Ryouga! How could you say such a thing, I'm sure he hasn't done anything that would warrant that!"

"He was in her room, isn't that enough?"

"So, my young man, were you. Have you forgotten that it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"

"I. . . . uh. . .. no, I kind of got. . . lost."

"Riiiiiiiight. Come on, young man, leave the bride to her father. Let's get you down to the altar before you wander off to China, eh?"

"Sounds. . . good."

There was a sound of the door opening and closing, and someone touched her face, lightly. The pungent scent was brought under her nose again, and she opened her eyes, coughing. Her father's face was swimming in front of her, tear-streaked.

"Come on, sweetie, we've got to get you down to the altar," he said, almost calmly. She supposed the crying portion of the day's events had ended, and accepted his hand to help her to her feet. Once the world had stopped swirling around her, she looked down at herself. A bit frumpled and wrinkled, maybe, but not bleeding anywhere. She couldn't even see any bruises.

"What. . . happened?" she asked, somewhat dazed. In the back of her head something was tugging at her, something was wrong. . . but she couldn't think what. . .

"I don't really know," he said, and he continued, but it was all buzzing in her head and there was such a lot of buzzing in her head had she been drunk where was everyone oh it was her wedding day and her WEDDING DAY to Ryouga that was why she was drinking and where was Ranma there was something with Ranma. . . .

Thus, dazed and confused, the most desired woman in the world was led through the magnificent corridors of her father's palace, down to the giant chapel where she was to wed the magnanimous King of the Gold Mines, a handsome, strong young man intensely in love with her.

It was more than anyone should hope.

Ryouga was sparing no expense for the ceremony—everyone who approached him or one of his attendants came away loaded down with presents. Handfuls of gold coins were passed out to anyone and everyone who wished for some, and there was no shortage of fine wine and fine food to be had for the asking.

If Nabiki were there, she would have died in convulsions a long time before they ever got to the vows.

Amid fanfare and cheers, the Princess Akane was led to the altar, where a beaming man awaited her. He looked so very happy. Neither he nor anyone else seemed inclined to notice the circles under her eyes, or how wobbly her smile was.

They had insisted she go without a veil. Heaven help her, there was no hiding. She was exposed, on a pedestal for everyone to see, for everyone to judge, to praise or hate without ever having said a word to her. She felt her stomach doing flips. . . and then she was standing in front of Ryouga.

Gods, he looked so damn happy. She could almost feel the love pouring out of his eyes. Maybe. . . maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But what in heaven's name was that tugging at the back of her mind. . . the priest began to speak, she was helped to her knees, given communion as if she needed more wine and. . . what in heaven's name was wrong with her? Why did she want to bolt? What was. . . what had happened. . .

"I object!" someone screamed behind her. There was a loud crash, as if someone wearing a lot of metal had just hit the ground hard. She turned to see a man, worn around the edges and stained as if from travel, standing on top of one of her guards. He was rushed by several more armed men, but in a flash they were all behind him, under him, groaning, defeated. He was in front of her, fast as light on water, his eyes glowering a challenge to Ryouga.

There was something terribly familiar about those eyes.

"Get lost, Ranma! She's mine, now!" Ryouga called out, his tone smug, confident in his ownership. She was pulled under his arm, protectively. She didn't much care, she was too busy staring at the stranger, with his black braid and his startling blue eyes.

That was it!

That was what had been bothering her!

Ranma was a GUY! And, worse, he'd proposed! Making him just one more looney after her, except he'd hidden under the guise of friendship. . . that DIRTY bastard PERVERT!

"Just who are you, young ruffian?" the priest asked—good thing he did, too, because he was the only one with the guts. No one was going to call out the guy who'd just taken down four armed, armored guards.

He flipped his braid back over his shoulder, arrogance in his stance. With a hand on his hip, dirty and bruised, he looked ready to beat down the vision in golden armor standing at the altar. . . next to the woman he wanted.

Akane seethed, balling up her fists. They were going to fight over her! As if she were a prize, to be won! Not if she had anything to say about it. . . . no way in hell.

"I'm Ranma Saotome, heir to the kingdom and Saotome fighting school. I challenge you, Ryouga. A battle to the death, winner takes Akane," he said, narrowing his eyes. Ryouga smirked, stepped forward.

"You will fight ME, Ranma Saotome," came the reply. But not from Ryouga's mouth.

Akane's dress was white silk, embroidered with diamonds. It sounds simple, but it isn't. She sparkled like the sun, every movement caught in one of the thousands of faceted diamonds sewn onto her person. Her slippers were covered in them, she wore a wreath of diamonds and flowers in her hair. Of course, it was only fitting—her bridegroom was dressed in golden armor, pure, solid gold. It was a show of strength and wealth—he could walk in it, and he could afford it. The metal was shaped to show dragons and lions fighting on the breastplate, exquisite work. So, how could she not show her wealth as well, and sparkle like the sun?

Standing in that ridiculous dress, it was she who challenged Ranma Saotome to a fight.

"We have a fight unfinished, Ranma. Remember, the day in the rain?" she said, stepping in front of Ryouga. He tried to pull her back behind him, but she slapped his hand. "You will not fight him until you've finished with me," she ground out. Ranma began to laugh.

If her blood wasn't boiling before. . .

"I'm not going to fight you, Akane, we both know how that would end. Besides, you can't fight in a corset, and you know it," he sneered. Then, she did the truly unthinkable.

She ripped her beautiful, sparkling dress, right down the middle. It fell to her feet in a crumpled, sad heap of ruined splendor. She pulled a small knife from a sheath strapped just above her shoe, and cut the laces of her corset in one quick rush. It fell to the ground on top of her dress.

The crowd, literally, went wild.

Ladies fainted, men drooled, and old women, who have surely seen worse, gasped in shock. Ranma, for his part, merely had to scrape his jaw off the marble floor.

"Fight me like this, then," she called, stepping out of her garments. Ryouga rushed to stand in front of her, spreading his arms out protectively.

"I won't let you fight her, Ranma," he said, firmly. Akane, growling, grabbed the communion cup from the startled priest and hit him over the head with it.

The blow didn't faze him.

Unfortunately, some of the wine sloshed out onto his unprotected head, and that fazed him plenty. The armor clattered to the floor, suddenly and mysteriously empty. Akane stared at the goblet, then at the empty armor, and dropped it, backing away, slowly. She just had time to make the sign of the cross before something truly wicked entered the church.

The high, wide doors at the back of the hall blew open, knocking several wedding guests out of the way as they did so. A giant cat, and a giant duck, pulling a strange little carriage, came growling into the church. They dragged their strange little carriage halfway up the middle aisle, then stopped.

"Akane, run! Hide!" Ranma screamed, running towards her. She punched him in the face as soon as he got within range, choosing anger over shock.

"You stay away from me! You just want to marry me, you little pervert!" she screamed.

"And why don't you go with him, then, you faithless woman!" cried a voice from the strange carriage. A little old woman, wizened and ugly as a five-year-old apple, hopped out of the carriage on a knobbly stick. She pointed a twisted finger at Akane, accusingly.

"You stand here, all but naked, trying to decide between two men when you're promised to a third! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, treating my friend this way! Harlot! Wench!" she cried. Ranma, a black bruise forming over his eye, stared at Akane in shock.

"You promised yourself to someone?" he asked, his voice a small, timid creature. The yellow dwarf himself, an old man twice as shrunken and ugly as the old woman, chose that moment to vault out of the carriage. He was crying, flailing his little stubby arms and legs.

"I WANT what's coming to me! She promised, she promised, she promised! Look at her panties, they were a gift to celebrate and I. . . worked . . . so. . . . HARD on them!" he wailed. Akane crossed her arms over her chest protectively. Ranma looked at her in shock for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear it.

"Look, pal, I've seen her trying to get the stuff off, I don't really think she wants to go with you," he said, nonchalantly. The little old man stopped his tantrum just long enough to glare maliciously at Ranma.

At this point, any wedding guests who had not fled or fainted from shock—and they were few—were beginning to ask questions in the background. Questions like:

"What underwear?"

"Who are the ugly little people? Did I miss something?"

"Whoa, did I hear the old man say he put that stuff on her? Like, he saw her. . . NAKED? She let that old man see her boobs, but I got punched for asking! Now who's the pervert?"

"Is she sleeping with the Saotome guy? He said he'd seen her trying to get them off, you know, maybe they're lovers. Explains why Ryouga hated him so much."

"That's terrible! The King of the Gold Mines was so nice! I guess she really is a harlot!"

"And a wench!"

"Shut up! Didn't you see Ryouga disappear when she hit him with a holy artifact? I bet he was a demon! That would explain his freakish strength."

To the credit of our two heros, they managed to ignore the speculation going on around them.

"Listen, you little pompous whippersnapper, I'm taking what's mine and that's final!" said the little old man, leaping to his feet. Ranma dropped into a casual stance, narrowing his eyes at his opponent.

"Happo Fire BURST!" the old man said, and threw a strange little ball of cloth at him.

Then the world burst into an orgy of light and cacophonous sound, before falling into darkness.

"What sort of deal are we talking here?" Ukyou asked Becafica, instantly suspicious. He shrugged and pushed his plate away.

"I'm willing to provide you with a safe place to stay, somewhere to hide where no one need know your real identity," he said, formally. She narrowed her eyes at him, her hands itching for her spatula.

"What, exactly, is in it for you?" she spat. He sighed, elaborately, before leaning in closely as though what he had to tell her was of great consequence.

"Your silence about my love for Valiant, for one thing," he whispered, his eyes urbane, flat in the cool blue light of early morning. "For another, the life of my cousin."

"Feh. What does your cousin have to do with me?" she scoffed.

"Nothing, yet. His father is a wealthy merchant, and he's ill. You save the boy's life, and they'll grant you a haven as long as you want it."

"What makes you think I'm capable of that? I'm a cook, not a healer," she protested. Becafica grinned maliciously.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to tell all these men who you are so they can bring back King Kuonji's lost bride? I'm sure he'd be most pleased to see you," he simpered. Ukyou's eyes widened.

"Okay, fine, you little shit! I'll try it out, hold your horses."

Ranma woke to the sound of singing, sweet and low. Someone was making the sores on his body go away, someone was pouring water on the fires under his skin. He opened his eyes, and saw a beautiful young girl with long, blue hair. She reminded him of Akane. Trusting his dreams to her, he fell back into sleep.

When he woke again, he was chained with cold iron to a rock wall, in a dingy, dark little cell. But there were fresh bandages on his wounds. He looked around, searching for any indication of where he might be. There was none.

There was, however, a pretty young woman in the corner of the cell. Seeing him wake, she crossed the floor to him, graceful and quick. Her clothing was strange—SHE was strange, but she was all he had, so he smiled gratefully at her.

"You bandaged my wounds," he noted. "Who are you?"

"I'm Cologne-chan," she giggled, toying with a peculiar necklace she was wearing. It was purple, in the shape of a serpent eating a hawk. "I'm one of the servants of the Witch of the Desert," she informed him.

"That ugly old woman was the Witch of the Desert?" he mused, not missing the anger that crossed her face when he mentioned the word "ugly."

"Yes, I suppose so. What's your name?" she asked.

"Ranma. Ranma Saotome," he answered her. She laid a hand gently on his chest, looked up into his eyes.

"Ranma. Such a pretty name. Such a manly name, it fits you. Can I ask you a favor, Ranma?" she cooed, fluttering her eyelashes at him. He felt the blood rush to his face and gulped.

"Ah. . . . sure."

"I get awfully lonely here. . . would you . . . when you are healed, from your wounds. . . . will you become my lover? Such a strong man will surely produce strong children, we can live in peace here, all one family."

"You STAY AWAY from me, old man!" Akane said, brandishing an iron pot at her abductor. He pouted, crossing his arms.

"I don't see why you won't let me watch you in the tub, Akane-chan. I wasn't going to TOUCH, I only wanted to LOOK," he protested. Akane narrowed her eyes at him, swishing the pot in the air menacingly. He turned big, watery puppy eyes to her. "We're married, you know, so it's my duty as a husband to see that you're comfortable! I want to make sure the bath isn't . . . hehe. . . too cold."

Akane thought it rather a pity the old man was such a pervert, he would be adorable if he'd just stop with the boob-grabbing.

"I don't recall saying 'I do,'" she said, loftily. "Besides, I'm expecting a rescue any minute, so you just hold your horses. My father is going to burst in through that door with a hundred knights, any second now!" she informed him, eyes blazing. His eyes turned suddenly sly, he cocked his head at her to regard her sideways.

"Your protector isn't going to come," he informed her. She snorted.

"My father won't just leave me here."

"I'm talking about that man who was trying to save you back at the castle. My friend the Witch of the Desert has taken a liking to him, and she intends to keep him," he grinned maliciously. Akane felt her skin shrink on her at the very idea.

"But. . . she's so. . . uagh," she finished, unable to choke out coherent words to describe it.

"She has her tricks. I'll bet right now she doesn't look a day over sixteen. She might even be. . . . hmmm hmmm," he chuckled, evilly. Akane shuddered. Wouldn't the old woman be shocked when she found out Ranma turned into a girl . . . wait.

That was her ticket out of here.

What does an old pervert like better than one luscious young woman? Two. If she could just talk him into it. . . .

By the time P-chan found his way out the neck hole of his suit of golden armor, the fight was over.

Ranma and Akane were gone.

Crying, he set out to look for them. . . and was never seen, as man or beast, in the Tendo Court again

Evil, yes, I know. Sorry.

That pretty much wraps up the predominant story arc, which is Yellow Dwarf. If you're interested, Langley wrote the version I used. The princess was really named Bellissima, it was her mother instead of her father, and at the end. . . . well, at the end, the King of the Gold Mines (there's no Ranma figure, but the witch does take the young King with her because she thinks he's cute) fights his way to the side of Bellissima, trying to rescue her. And then. . . it ends badly, it ends very sad. I like the ass-kicking princess let's-have-lesbian-orgies idea better. That might just be me.