A/N: Yay! The ball commences. Two chapters this time, because you guys were
SOOOO nice in your reviews last chapter!!! You made my day.
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THE BALL
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Charming POV
I itched my leg. Silk was a horrible fabric, I decided. It was ugly as anything, especially in bright red, and it irritated the skin like a rash would. Silk rash. Yes, that was most assuredly what I had. I wondered vaguely if one could be allergic to silk.
"Charming, stop," my father snapped. I sighed, and rested my chin in my hands. It was positively boring, sitting here in my throne next to father. Archibald was over by the orchestra, conducting them in the most boorish of all waltzes. I yawned loudly, and my father punched me in the arm. "You will behave," he ordered. I nodded, rubbing the bruise that was forming, but my eyelids were drooping. Rodents and boars, these people were so boring. They were gorgeous, every one of them, but what of their minds? Or lack thereof?
"My name is Lady Odelia of Mark," the latest ditz began, curtsying. "Good for you," I muttered. My father smacked me upside the head. That really hurt. I winced. As if my headache wasn't painful enough without his interference.
"I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the piano, and singing. I have a very nice voice, if I do say so myself." She placed a fine hand against her chest, smiling invitingly. "Sure you do," I mumbled into my hand. My father slapped me on the crown again.
"That is positively fascinating," I promised, smiling with all the fondness I could muster. The wench had gotten me three whacks. And just so she could mumble about how interesting she was.
"My name is Lady Maria of Hilled Land," the next droned, curtsying. "I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the flute, and singing. I have quite a lovely voice, if I do say so my--" I sighed loudly, so noisily, in fact, that she stopped midway, reddening. My father walloped my head again, and I leaned forward to avoid another blow. This was going to be one heck of a night.
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Ella POV
I was standing in a long line of princesses, wearing my old white ball gown. I had bathed in the river beforehand, and I must say I was ravishing. My mother's old diamond earrings were on my ears, and I wore an outrageously expensive tiara. My hair, after being wetted, was in tight, pretty curls. I was going to blow everyone else out of the water.
Thoroughly disinterested, I watched the entertainment with some degree of interest. They had hired this dance group, the Twelve Dancing Princesses, to perform a jig for us. Problem was, their partners were shady characters, and had left with all the money. Also, the poor dears kept wearing out pairs of shoes. Pity, they were decent performers.
"My name is Lady Delphi, and I come from Titan," the girl in front of me began. Charming muttered something into his hands, probably about her massive bulk. His father smacked him so hard he fell forward in his seat. I growled. If that man struck my darling one more time, I'd sick the pan on him.
Speaking of the enchanted frying pan, my eyes fell over to Archibald, and I grinned wickedly. There were several bite marks across his face and arms, and I knew there was one on his rump, as I'd seen him running around with my many-toothed buddy clinging to him in a "most inappropriate" area.
Lady Delphi finished and stepped back into the crowd. Charming muttered another nasty comment, and his father whacked him again. I stepped forward.
"My name is Lady Eleanor of White Grove," I began. Charming's head shot up, and he grinned. "I enjoy swimming, writing letters, long conversation, and of course, reading. My personal favorites are Greek myths." Charming was practically out of his chair.
"Father! That's the girl. Please let me dance with her! Please! I know that none of these other ditzes are - ouch! - going to impress me like she has! She's beautiful; she's smart; she's - oh, please Father, let me - ouch! - dance with her! Yes, right now! She's -ouch! - really- don't hit me again - she's just the most perfect - ouch! - please let me"
King Dashing smacked him so hard he fell out of his seat and stumbled down the steps of the dais until he came to rest at my feet. He grinned at me from his position on all fours. "Can I dance with you, Ella?" he asked, crawling onto his knees. It was almost like a proposal of marriage. I nodded graciously and helped him to his feet. He smiled, circlet hanging askew. "Well, then, to the dance floor, I suppose?"
I grinned. He'd chosen me! He'd chosen me without a pause of contemplation. He'd even recognized my face. Oh, my sweet, adorable, brave Charming! I never stopped smiling throughout the entirety of our dance together. My head was on his shoulder, and we muttered about everything we could for the longest time. I noticed that the other dancers had left the floor, but do you think I really cared? He kissed the side of my face once, and his father stood up. "You little brat! You horrible, wicked, disobedient little boy!" He went on and on about how Charming should have been thrashed more often as a child, and that he should have been kept in the stables until he was seven, and made to eat once every three days, etc. etc. We both ignored him.
I smiled as Charming rested his head against my shoulder, as I had laid mine against his. Suddenly, Archibald cut the music. Charming's head jerked up, and he glowered ferociously at his cousin. "Well," Archibald began, grinning broadly, "It appears that everyone has left the dance floor for now, so we'll just chat with everyone for a while, won't we?"
Charming started towards him, but thought better of it when he saw his father heading towards him. "Aw, grease and tallow," he mumbled, and flew out of the room without so much as a kiss good-bye. Dashing followed his son out the door. My lower lip trembled. He'd left me, just like that - alone.
Dashing was going down.
I followed them out the door, sure to run as fast as I could, despite the hindrance of my skirts. Dashing was running after his son, though I wondered exactly what he planned to do once he caught him. Probably smack him around, drag him inside, force him to apologize to all the ladies, and lock him in his room for a few days.
I stared down at my feet. His crown. I tenderly picked it up and hugged it fondly, though the points of the golden wreath dug into my arms. Poor Charming.
Suddenly, the king stopped short in his pursuit of Charming and turned quickly in the opposite direction. I couldn't understand exactly what he was chasing after, but for some reason he sprinted pell-mell to the left.
If only I had looked to see where he ran.
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*** *** *** *** *** ** * ****
THE BALL
*** *** *** **** **** ******
Charming POV
I itched my leg. Silk was a horrible fabric, I decided. It was ugly as anything, especially in bright red, and it irritated the skin like a rash would. Silk rash. Yes, that was most assuredly what I had. I wondered vaguely if one could be allergic to silk.
"Charming, stop," my father snapped. I sighed, and rested my chin in my hands. It was positively boring, sitting here in my throne next to father. Archibald was over by the orchestra, conducting them in the most boorish of all waltzes. I yawned loudly, and my father punched me in the arm. "You will behave," he ordered. I nodded, rubbing the bruise that was forming, but my eyelids were drooping. Rodents and boars, these people were so boring. They were gorgeous, every one of them, but what of their minds? Or lack thereof?
"My name is Lady Odelia of Mark," the latest ditz began, curtsying. "Good for you," I muttered. My father smacked me upside the head. That really hurt. I winced. As if my headache wasn't painful enough without his interference.
"I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the piano, and singing. I have a very nice voice, if I do say so myself." She placed a fine hand against her chest, smiling invitingly. "Sure you do," I mumbled into my hand. My father slapped me on the crown again.
"That is positively fascinating," I promised, smiling with all the fondness I could muster. The wench had gotten me three whacks. And just so she could mumble about how interesting she was.
"My name is Lady Maria of Hilled Land," the next droned, curtsying. "I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the flute, and singing. I have quite a lovely voice, if I do say so my--" I sighed loudly, so noisily, in fact, that she stopped midway, reddening. My father walloped my head again, and I leaned forward to avoid another blow. This was going to be one heck of a night.
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Ella POV
I was standing in a long line of princesses, wearing my old white ball gown. I had bathed in the river beforehand, and I must say I was ravishing. My mother's old diamond earrings were on my ears, and I wore an outrageously expensive tiara. My hair, after being wetted, was in tight, pretty curls. I was going to blow everyone else out of the water.
Thoroughly disinterested, I watched the entertainment with some degree of interest. They had hired this dance group, the Twelve Dancing Princesses, to perform a jig for us. Problem was, their partners were shady characters, and had left with all the money. Also, the poor dears kept wearing out pairs of shoes. Pity, they were decent performers.
"My name is Lady Delphi, and I come from Titan," the girl in front of me began. Charming muttered something into his hands, probably about her massive bulk. His father smacked him so hard he fell forward in his seat. I growled. If that man struck my darling one more time, I'd sick the pan on him.
Speaking of the enchanted frying pan, my eyes fell over to Archibald, and I grinned wickedly. There were several bite marks across his face and arms, and I knew there was one on his rump, as I'd seen him running around with my many-toothed buddy clinging to him in a "most inappropriate" area.
Lady Delphi finished and stepped back into the crowd. Charming muttered another nasty comment, and his father whacked him again. I stepped forward.
"My name is Lady Eleanor of White Grove," I began. Charming's head shot up, and he grinned. "I enjoy swimming, writing letters, long conversation, and of course, reading. My personal favorites are Greek myths." Charming was practically out of his chair.
"Father! That's the girl. Please let me dance with her! Please! I know that none of these other ditzes are - ouch! - going to impress me like she has! She's beautiful; she's smart; she's - oh, please Father, let me - ouch! - dance with her! Yes, right now! She's -ouch! - really- don't hit me again - she's just the most perfect - ouch! - please let me"
King Dashing smacked him so hard he fell out of his seat and stumbled down the steps of the dais until he came to rest at my feet. He grinned at me from his position on all fours. "Can I dance with you, Ella?" he asked, crawling onto his knees. It was almost like a proposal of marriage. I nodded graciously and helped him to his feet. He smiled, circlet hanging askew. "Well, then, to the dance floor, I suppose?"
I grinned. He'd chosen me! He'd chosen me without a pause of contemplation. He'd even recognized my face. Oh, my sweet, adorable, brave Charming! I never stopped smiling throughout the entirety of our dance together. My head was on his shoulder, and we muttered about everything we could for the longest time. I noticed that the other dancers had left the floor, but do you think I really cared? He kissed the side of my face once, and his father stood up. "You little brat! You horrible, wicked, disobedient little boy!" He went on and on about how Charming should have been thrashed more often as a child, and that he should have been kept in the stables until he was seven, and made to eat once every three days, etc. etc. We both ignored him.
I smiled as Charming rested his head against my shoulder, as I had laid mine against his. Suddenly, Archibald cut the music. Charming's head jerked up, and he glowered ferociously at his cousin. "Well," Archibald began, grinning broadly, "It appears that everyone has left the dance floor for now, so we'll just chat with everyone for a while, won't we?"
Charming started towards him, but thought better of it when he saw his father heading towards him. "Aw, grease and tallow," he mumbled, and flew out of the room without so much as a kiss good-bye. Dashing followed his son out the door. My lower lip trembled. He'd left me, just like that - alone.
Dashing was going down.
I followed them out the door, sure to run as fast as I could, despite the hindrance of my skirts. Dashing was running after his son, though I wondered exactly what he planned to do once he caught him. Probably smack him around, drag him inside, force him to apologize to all the ladies, and lock him in his room for a few days.
I stared down at my feet. His crown. I tenderly picked it up and hugged it fondly, though the points of the golden wreath dug into my arms. Poor Charming.
Suddenly, the king stopped short in his pursuit of Charming and turned quickly in the opposite direction. I couldn't understand exactly what he was chasing after, but for some reason he sprinted pell-mell to the left.
If only I had looked to see where he ran.
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