NightIntent: This is so entertaining to write. Okay, I kinda brush over Elle's getting ready for the ball. I'm not good at stuff like that. So bear with me. And I hope you like it anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own the fairy tale.
A prince's betrayal and a girl's ambition. A plan to be princess and a bet on the outcome. The tale of Cinderella.
Elle woke up to the sound of birds twittering outside her window. She got up, sighing happily. "Another beautiful day," she said. Her voice turned sly. "The day of the prince's ball. Time to start getting ready. It's going to take all day." She grinned wickedly and went into the bathroom. She got into the waiting bath that had been prepared by the maid a little while before, and kept hot with boiling water. Sliding in, she sighed again.
After a time, one of Elle's stepsisters peeked into the bathroom. "Elle, hurry up," she whined. "We have to take a bath, too."
"Quit your whining," Elle snarled. "I'm in here now, deal with it. Your whining doesn't make me want to go any faster It does the exact opposite. Now buzz off!"
Pouting, the sister left. About ten minutes later, Elle got out of the tub. She dried off slowly, taking care with her hair. She went back to her room to brush her long hair. She left it loose to let it dry.
Elle's other stepsister walked into her room. "Elle, I don't know what to wear," she lamented, cringing, waiting for the backlash of Elle's temper.
"Hmm," Elle said, surprising her sister. "Wear that yellow dress. It'll show off your hair well."
"Thank you!" the stepsister exclaimed. She ran from the room to get ready.
Elle rolled her eyes. "Idiots, all of them," she muttered. "Now, what dress should I wear?" Elle looked into her closet, pulling out some clothes, tossing some aside, others onto her bed. When she'd emptied her closet, she started to sort through the clothes on her bed. Eventually, she settled on a long, low-cut, dark gray, clinging silk dress. It matched her eyes almost perfectly, and she loved it. "Perfect," Elle breathed. "Now to decide on make up."
All of Elle's make up was on her mirrored dresser. She dumped it all out onto it and started experimenting. It took her nearly three hours, and many face-washings, but she finally settled on what she thought was the perfect combination of the perfect colors. She sighed happily. "Hopefully, all this work will pay off. Hey, Mom!" she called, referring to her stepmother. "When do we leave?"
"In about four hours!" her stepmother's response came from down the hall.
Elle sighed and sat down to waste the three hours she had until she needed to start getting ready. "Oh! I know!" she said, sitting bolt upright. "I'll figure out my hairstyle. Then I won't have to do that later." It took her a full two and a half hours to settle on her "perfect" style. She smiled into the mirror. "Good, that's settled. Now, what else? I don't have all that much to do now."
Finally, Elle decided she wanted to pluck her eyebrows, so they'd look nice for the prince. But that only burned through a few minutes. So she plucked out the hairs on her upper lip and washed her face again, careful not to upset her hair. "Good enough," she said. "Time to get ready."
Thanks to her day of careful planning, Elle was ready to go to the ball, her hair, make up, and dress perfectly coordinated, in less than half an hour more. She glanced into the mirror and realized that her stomach bulged out slightly. Elle frowned. "That's not good. I think I need a corset." She pulled off her dress and ran to her closet to dig one out. She put it on and pulled the laces as tight as she could get them by herself, then put her dress back on. Another glance at the mirror to assure herself that she was perfect, and Elle walked out of her room.
"About time," her stepmother complained. "We've been waiting for you."
"You can't rush perfection," Elle said breathlessly. She was having trouble breathing with the corset on. "Shall we go now?"
"We would have left at least ten minutes ago, of you hadn't taken forever to get ready," one of her stepsisters complained.
"Complaining doesn't become you," Elle remarked. "And you weren't pretty to start with. Let's go, I have to make my grand entrance!" She flounced out the door, the skirt of her dress whispering quietly as she moved.
Elle got into the waiting couch first, letting the coachman lift her into it. If she tried to climb up by herself, her dress might get ruined! And then all her hard work would be for nothing, and she wouldn't be able to go to the ball. She'd already missed the first two nights on purpose, so that she could be the mysterious newcomer on the last night. But if she missed her chance, she would never forgive whoever she pinned the responsibility on. Which would probably be her stepmother and stepsisters, for choosing a coach with a jagged step.
As it was, Elle got on the coach fine, as did her stepmother and two stepsisters. The door shut firmly (right on Elle's stepmother's dress, but Elle wasn't about to point that out) and the coach jolted forward.
"Ugh, what a bumpy coach!" Elle exclaimed, her voice disgusted. "Couldn't you have hired a decent coach? And on the last night of the ball, too! Really, are you trying to ruin my debut into society?" It was true. This was Elle's first real venture into the world. She usually just lay about the house, letting everyone do everything for her. Well, except for the times she went for a walk around the grounds. It wasn't easy to maintain her hourglass figure.
After a period of silence, Elle spoke up. "How about we make a bet? If I can't get the prince to fall in love with me at midnight, I'll do all the chores around the house for a year. I leave at the stroke of midnight. And you three do, too. Do we have a deal?"
Her stepmother smirked, her eyes glinting dangerously. "I think we do. But remember, no later than midnight. Or you forfeit and do the chores whether you make him fall in love with you or not. So you must refuse his proposal of marriage."
"Fine." Elle turned to stare out the window of the coach, lapsing back into silence. Her stomach was fluttering with nerves and anticipation.
The four finally reached the palace. Elle was fidgeting with her hands a bit, wishing she'd polished them that day, or at least filed them or worn gloves. Her hands weren't perfect, by her standards. Sighing at her lack of forethought, she got out of the coach. She smiled at the footman and waltzed to the door to the ballroom. There was a line of women waiting to be introduced to the prince, just inside the door.
Elle's first sight of the prince took her breath away. He was just as handsome as she'd envisioned, and she knew that this was the man for her. She stepped into the line, content to wait the night away just to say a few words to the prince. She was amazed that there were still so many girls wanting to meet the prince, even on the third night. But she was ready to wait. As long as it didn't take until after midnight.
Elle had arrived at eight. At nine thirty, she was two people away from taking to the prince. Then one. And, finally, after an hour and a half of waiting, Elle was able to talk to the man she had fallen in love with at first sight. When the prince acknowledged her, Elle stepped forward and curtseyed deeply to her prince. She straightened and smiled at him, confident in her appearance and manners. "Go evening, my prince. How goes it with you on this fine night?"
"Dully," he responded. "Unless I miss my mark, I haven't seen you here on the last two nights. Surely I wouldn't have missed such a golden maiden amongst all these frauds."
Blushing prettily, Elle replied, "No, indeed, I have been feeling unwell the last two days. I just recovered late this afternoon, and felt well enough to come today."
"Then we have all been deprived of the company of a beautiful woman," the prince said gallantly. "When I have gone finished talking to the rest of this tedious line, would you save me a dance?"
"Of course, my prince," Elle simpered. "As many dances as my prince desires. But I must leave at midnight. My mother fears that I am not yet well, and does not wish for me to stay out too late."
"It will not take that long," the prince said. "I will see you before midnight, then."
Still smiling, Elle walked away from the prince. As soon as her back was turned to him and he couldn't see her face, Elle's smile turned wicked. She sighed, "That was too easy. Way, way too easy."
One of Elle's stepsisters walked up to her. "I hope you're ready to clean up after us, Cinderella!" she hissed at Elle.
"Oooh, I'm scared," Elle said. "How long did it take you to come up with that? Been thinking about it since the coach ride? How pathetic. Not to mention petty."
Her stepsister glared. "I'm not the one who will be doing the housework, now am I?" she retorted.
Elle rolled her eyes and walked away. "Cinderella," she muttered, "really. How stupid."
A man approached Elle. Quickly, she pulled on her figurative mask of the simpering, innocent young woman that she'd used for the prince. "Good evening, sir," she said. "How do you do on this night?"
"Fine and well," the man responded. "Would the beautiful maiden honor me with a dance?"
"Beautiful maiden?" Elle inquired, pretending ignorance to the compliment and looking around her.
"Why, you, good madam," the man said. "Would you honor me with a dance?"
"Oh," Elle said, giggling and blushing faintly. "Why, of course, sir. I would be honored." She took his offered hand and he swept her into the dance. As she danced with the man, Elle kept an eye on the prince, watching his reaction. When he saw her dancing with another man, his expression was none too happy. Elle smiled smugly. He was already hers, even if it was just infatuation. It was all she really needed.
The dance ended, and Elle curtseyed as the man bowed. In the time that the dance had taken, most of the remainder of the prince's receiving line was gone. A few minutes later, the prince walked over to her. "I am very sorry it took me so long," he apologized, bowing. "The women all wished to keep me by them, chattering and trying to keep my attention. But I had eyes only for you, my sweet." He blinked. "Which reminds me. You never told me your name. What is it?"
Elle giggled. "I am called Elle, my prince. And what name, pray tell, do you go by?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously as the prince led her back onto the dance floor.
"My name is William," the prince said.
"And a fine name it is," Elle said, smiling.
"Indeed it is," William said, smiling back down at her.
The music started, and Elle and William danced. They danced for a long time, and Elle completely lost track of the time, using all her practiced skill in flirting to snare the prince's heart, more and more as time went by. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the loud chiming of the clock, louder than it had been before.
"Oh!" Elle exclaimed. "It's midnight already? I must go!" In the middle of the dance, Elle tugged free of William's hands and ran to the door. One of her delicate, small gray shoes (that matched her dress perfectly, even as they were hid by it) fell off her foot as she ran, but she didn't dare stop to pick it up. She ran on, out to the coach.
"You're late," Elle's stepmother said sourly. She rapped on the top of the coach, to tell the driver he could leave.
"So, how did it go?" one of her stepsisters asked.
"Oh, well enough, I suppose," Elle replied airily. "He seemed to like me well enough, but I suppose we'll find out tomorrow. I hope he returns my shoe. This is my favorite pair." She looked sourly at her well-formed, tiny bare foot. "We'll see," she repeated, "we'll see."
The next morning, Elle woke up early, despite her late night. She hadn't been able to get to sleep easily the night before, the excitement that she'd suppressed while with the prince had hither on the coach ride home, causing her to start fidgeting and worrying. She hoped the prince would come for her.
Elle sprang out of bed, excitement flooding her body. She went into the bathroom and washed up, then dressed in semi-casual formal clothing, still hoping in her heart that William would come for her.
By that afternoon, Elle had given up hope. Her stepmother came into he room and gave her an old, ragged dress, a bucket, and a sponge.
"Here," she said mockingly. "Start cleaning the kitchen."
Sighing, Elle went to do as she had promised.
NightIntent: Yeah... Please keep in mind all this happened while Tala was in the dwarves' cottage. Otherwise this whole thing makes no sense. I think I'll do Briar Rose next. I'm trying to make it so William won't turn up in that one, but we'll see.