Chapter 1 – The Spell

-:-:-

Chad was prepared for many things in life – except maybe dying.

Which was a shame because he was pretty sure that was what had just happened. It was unfortunate, but even with his skills and cunning he could only avoid his grandfather's assassination attempts for so long. Seemed like the rotten bastard had finally succeeded, and now he could thrust a 'pureblood' noble into the spotlight as heir to the Sardinian throne, and maybe Chad's father would completely surrender to his depression upon Chad's death, but he probably wouldn't. He had managed to be technically functional for this long, he could manage for a bit longer.

Probably.

On the bright side, Chad would get to see his mom again. He didn't really remember her, but if his dad had been so lost after losing her then she was probably pretty great. She looked nice in her pictures. He looked forward to getting to know her.

At least until he started registering the pain.

It wasn't a lot of pain – more like minor aches than anything else, but still, they existed and they shouldn't exist because he shouldn't have a body because he was dead. He was going to be pretty pissed if he spent all that time coming to terms with the fact that he'd died only to realize he was actually alive.

And yet, when Chad opened his eyes (because he still had those) he realized he was, in fact, alive, splayed out on his back in a version of his bedroom back home, assuming his bedroom had gotten hit with a tornado and actually still contained personal effects for some reason. Chad had given up on nostalgia and sentimentality a long time ago as a matter of practicality. No point in offering his grandfather additional tools with which to wound him. He wasn't sure where the photos (physical photos, even, the height of impracticality) and sketches and miscellaneous knickknacks had come from, but there was no mistaking the base structure of his room, even if the furniture and dressings all seemed to be radically different. Was that a Sherwood Forest Tourney Team comforter? Why would he own something so tacky? He didn't even like Tourney all that much, he just competed because he had to. He couldn't embarrass Sardinia by being a sissy or whatever, as if wanting to focus on his studies – the actual reason he went to school – would automatically make him homosexual.

Ah, the twisted logic of homophobes.

But back to the matter at hand.

He seemed to have been teleported. Perhaps the assassin his grandfather had hired had misinterpreted one of their spells and sent Chad careening through space rather than finishing him off entirely. That was embarrassing, but ultimately played to Chad's advantage. He still wasn't sure what that had to do with the new additions to his room but he shoved that from his mind, pushing himself up from where he'd been splayed across the floor and making a rapid assortment of discoveries one atop the other.

Such as – his shirt was fully unbuttoned, baring his chest for some reason.

Such as – the bared skin revealed some sort of intricate rune drawn in blood, as in blood magic, as in the shit you absolutely should not mess with because it was really fucking powerful but also really fucking complicated.

Such as – he was spread out in the middle of an even bigger, more intricate rune that had been painted onto the floor, and if that was his blood it had been carefully accumulated over time because there was a lot of it. There were spell components – rare spell components – resting in bowls at pivotal spaces on the outskirts of the rune, and above all else-

Fairy Godmother's damn wand was in Chad's blood-tacky hand.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

He searched around frantically, trying to get a better understanding for his situation because apparently he'd done this to himself – or had been cursed to do this to himself, enchanted perhaps, maybe Mal had finally gotten so annoyed with him that she'd given into the threats she always lobbed his way for having the audacity to exist near her. He didn't blame her – the persona Chad maintained in public to keep the dozens of people who tried to kill him on a regular basis off-balance was kind of an asshole, though a necessary one.

Eventually, he managed to locate a spell book open on the mess of his desk (his desk, which was usually so pristine and nice and the hidden drawers he had spent years installing didn't even seem to exist anymore, who did this to his baby?), which was great until he read through what the fuck had actually happened.

One, wherever Chad – not himself Chad, but this Chad, because Chad was beginning to realize that he hadn't been transported to a different location but an entirely new dimension altogether – had gotten this damn book was fucking bad news, because every spell he skimmed over seemed to be some heavy-duty shit. He had a feeling based on the scattering of failed homework grades (the paperwork littered around the full area of the room) that this version of Chad wasn't all that bright, and likely hadn't known what he was getting into when he'd cast this spell.

On one hand, Chad gave him credit for his ingenuity. On the other, he mourned for the guy, because Chad was pretty sure he was dead.

He re-read the spell two more times before he came back to the same conclusion.

It looked like this version of Chadwick had been trying to shortcut his way to a higher intellect. Only instead of making him smarter, the spell had just grabbed Chad's 'essence' or 'consciousness' or whatever (old Fae was a difficult language to read, Chad was pretty impressed Dumb Chad had managed it) and shoved it into Dumb Chad's body.

So the world Chad knew was gone, because he actually had died there, probably, and this guy – Dumb Chad – was dead, and now Chad got to take a second chance at life here.

For a brief second he considered his obligation to undoing the mess Dumb Chad had made. And then he read through the extent of the spell description and realized it was more or less permanent. And Chad – he might have Fairy Godmother's wand – but he wasn't a damn wizard. He was a smart guy, but he didn't know enough about this shit to be able to modify an existing spell, let alone reverse it.

So, step one, time to make a plan.

He could inform Dumb Chad's family that Dumb Chad was dead, but there was no guarantee that Dumb Chad's family actually gave a shit about him. If anything, Chad's grandfather could use this as an excuse to declare Chad crazy and a danger to himself and society or whatever, so Chad immediately decided to keep this development to himself.

Which meant first he had to cover up all evidence of the ritual.

New step one – cleaning.

It wasn't anything Chad was unfamiliar with. His grandfather liked him to keep a clean room as a matter of principle, not allowing the maids to approach Chad's room (which had given Chad a safe space to hide his shit – take that, grandpa) under the guise of instilling a proper work ethic into Chad while really just trying to find another way to beat him down. Whatever, Chad found comfort in cleaning. He liked everything being in its proper place. When a room was clean, it was easier to know when things were out of place the few times his grandfather did deign to snoop, which was why everything had a very exact spot for a reason.

Thankfully, Chad's bathroom had not been affected like his bedroom, but the place was definitely falling short of the cleanliness standards he had come to expect from himself. Not in the manner of staining or grime, just excess toiletries splayed haphazardly across the counter, hair in the stupid brush- a makeup mirror? Dumb Chad… he seemed to be on the struggle bus, but no matter. The guy was dead, so there was no point worrying about him. Chad would put the bathroom in order later.

He made quick work of washing the blood off his chest, the wand, and cleaning and dressing the cut on his hand. He hid the wand under his bathroom sink for now before returning to his room.

Ugh, still a mess.

Whatever, the secret passageways were still the same and he was able to navigate to the nearest cleaning supplies closet without being harassed, so he grabbed the tools he needed and retreated to his room, getting to business. It probably didn't say great things about Chad that he was familiar with how to clean blood off of polished marble, but the knowledge allowed him to successfully erase all trace of the large rune, and from there, it was a matter of hiding the spell book, until Chad was left with what could be a believable mess resulting from a teenage boy.

He created a new plan.

He found storage tubs in the back of his walk-in closet (that was also a mess, what was wrong with Dumb Chad? Did he not have standards?) and armed himself with a handful of heavy-duty trash bags and got to fucking work.

All errant papers were placed on his desk (which also needed sorting), the random knickknacks either thrown away or set aside to be donated. There was just so much indulgent bullshit. Signed Tourney balls and pictures of Chad and his classmates – seemingly all his classmates, Lonnie and Aziz and Ben and Audrey and Doug and a veritable ton of Chad and Jane for whatever reason. There were jerseys from various professional Tourney teams and ribbons and ticket stubs to old concerts and a pile of books that should be on a damn shelf.

Eventually, Chad stumbled upon Dumb Chad's phone (his password was 1-1-1-1, Chad immediately changed it due to the insult of it all) which bore a host of unanswered text messages from people he rarely spoke to on account of the fact that he was an asshole.

The most recent string was from Ben, whose text history read as such:

'Hey, dude, are you doing okay? I know things were rough yesterday.' – that was a month ago.

'Chad, buddy – totally get if you need some space. Please know I'm here if you need me, we all are.' – that was a day later.

Another two days, and then, 'Chad, I'm getting worried, no one's heard from you since the party. You don't have to be embarrassed; you didn't do anything wrong, and I hate to think that you might be blaming yourself for what those awful girls said. No one who's worth anything believes them, okay? Just… I'm here for you, man.'

Oh, so apparently there was some gossip that had set Dumb Chad off on his quest to self-improvement. That was definitely worth looking into.

Chad kept reading.

'Did you block Jane's number?' Ben wrote next. 'You didn't do anything wrong, Chad, and she didn't break up with you because you're dumb. She just thought you would be better friends, and you WERE good friends, remember? Don't let some snooty girls ruin that.'

Dumb Chad had dated Jane? That was… weird. Like, he guessed Jane was fine, he just couldn't imagine dating her since he spent so much time putting distance between them so his grandfather wouldn't attack her. That was the best Chad could offer in his world.

Maybe Dumb Chad didn't have to worry about assassins. That would be nice.

Best not to get complacent, considering his recent death, but it was something to look into.

'Your mom says you're studying,' Ben's next text read. 'And you don't want any distractions, but maybe you could take a break? Everyone's getting worried.'

It was sincerely weird for Ben – any version of Ben – to be this invested in Chad's life. In his old existence, Ben interacted with him as a measure of necessity, because it would be impolite for him not to, but he didn't actually like Chad, and certainly hadn't texted him like this. Chad was so baffled by the concept of it that it took him a few moments to process what else Ben had wrote, most specifically, the part about Chad having a mom. Because he'd never had one of those.

Maybe his dad had remarried?

Chad abandoned his text messages to scroll through his pictures and was blindsided a few moments later by an older looking version of the only mother he had come to know, the one that looked so radiant and angelic in the few paintings Chad's grandfather allowed, the one they had a statue of back in the gardens she had liked to maintain.

So apparently she wasn't dead here.

Which meant she hadn't been assassinated, so maybe his grandfather liked him? And something about her survival – and his grandfather potentially liking him – had made Chad stupid rather than shrewd and resourceful. It was something worth noting. He'd panic about it later.

Back to the texts.

'Audrey says you blocked her number,' Ben wrote, Chad laughing because some things were consistent no matter what dimension he was in. 'The others are saying the same thing. They can't reach you on Facebook either. Look, I don't care if you don't answer me but if you block my number I WILL come to Sardinia and hunt you down no matter HOW important your study sessions are.'

Wow. Dumb Chad was such a diva. Chad sort of loved him a lot. It was nice to know that no matter what world he was in, he didn't do things by halves.

'That wasn't a challenge, Chad,' Ben pled, and Chad could see his noble, stricken expression staring woefully at his phone. 'Please. PLEASE talk to us. We love you. Why are you caring about the opinions of a small handful of people you don't even like when the people you DO like enjoy you just as you are?'

Laying it on a bit thick, Ben? Light, the asshole talked as if they were best friends.

Chad really hoped they weren't best friends. There was only so much Ben he could take at a time, and it was not much.

'Your parents are worried about you,' Ben wrote. 'They've been talking to my mom and dad. They didn't tell me this, I eavesdropped shamelessly because I'm worried about you. Please text me back. Audrey's this close to driving to Sardinia and camping out in your castle until you talk to someone. I think Lonnie will help her.'

That sounded like the worst idea ever. Lonnie didn't like Chad back home, though granted, most people didn't like Chad. He was pretty sure Doug tolerated him, and that was it.

'Aziz has joined the plan,' Ben next wrote. 'Doug and Jane are coming too; I hope you're ready for company.'

The last one, according to Chad's phone, was sent yesterday.

Chad went ahead and bit the bullet because he didn't have time to juggle an invasion while he settled into his new life.

'Benjamin Florian, I am BUSY. Take your good intentions and use them on a box of abandoned puppies or something. Doing some deep cleaning. Show up at the castle and be prepared to spend quality time with my parents because I don't have time for you.'

Chad hit send before he could think about it and went back to the effort of cleaning, because there wasn't a mess so much as there was clutter, which was equally unacceptable as far as Chad was concerned.

He had to alphabetize the bookshelves because they were all placed haphazardly, and there weren't even books in most of them which wouldn't fucking do. Chad made a list of reference materials he would need to obtain and got to work throwing away old craft projects and junk that seemed to be the handiwork of grade school Ben and Audrey for whatever fucking reason. Come to think of it, there were paintings on the wall that were definitely Audrey's handiwork that featured Jane and Chad, or Chad with Ben and Audrey, Chad and his family, and for the life of him he could not fathom why she would give him such things.

So instead he focused his ire on the collection of graphic novels that spanned a full two shelves that he immediately chucked in the donation box.

Comic books? Seriously? Who had time for such bullshit?

He started making coded notes of secret compartments he needed to reinstall and professional connections he needed to reacquire among everything else because he was literally starting from scratch here, he had no useful foundation to work off of. Granted, things could be worse, he could be really dead, but it was still a minor annoyance in itself.

The other annoyance was the fact that about two minutes after Chad had sent the text, he'd gotten a call from Ben. One that he, of course, immediately dismissed, only for the asshole to call him again. And again. And again.

The boy didn't know the meaning of the word quit but Chad had no time for him because his fucking books were out of order and his clothes weren't grouped correctly in his closet and Dumb Chad didn't seem to understand the concept of minimalization so he had like a million bathroom products when he could just use two and call it a job well done. Did he have an eyeshadow pallet? Why would- you know what, Chad didn't care, he went ahead and threw that in the trash too.

One hour in and things were looking much better. Granted, Chad had saved the desk for last because he knew the state of it would likely make him rip his hair out, but other than that he felt very accomplished. He was in the process of pulling the tacky comforter off the bed when he finally got company – company he hadn't expected because they didn't ring the buzzer at the front of the suite like the servants normally did.

Then again, Chad supposed mothers were exempt from most personal boundaries.

There was a soft knock on the door to Chad's bedroom, which in itself was not a surprise, until it was followed with, "Kit, sweetheart? Benjamin's on the phone for you. He said you guys were having trouble with your connection?"

Oh. Okay. Looked like Chad was going to have to tackle that mom-hurdle sooner rather than later.

"Sorry," Chad offered, falling into his best distracted expression as he opened the door to come face to face with the woman who would have been his mom had she not been tragically murdered. "I was under the impression that the-" He checked his phone. "Twenty-two dismissed calls would communicate my desire not to speak to him, but apparently I was wrong." He plucked the proffered phone from her hand, trying not to freak out because she was there and alive and looking at him. "Ben, I told you I was busy, now stop bothering my mom."

With that, Chad ended the call before he passed the phone back over to the queen.

"Don't be too hard on Ben," Chad's mom soothed, following Chad as he retreated into his room. "He's worried about…" she trailed off, likely in shock at the reorganization. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning," Chad said, pulling the comforter the rest of the way off the bed. He was pretty sure this fucker was custom made, there was no way you'd be able to get something this tacky in royal bed size. Ugh, Chad despaired for Dumb Chad. "I wanted to straighten up."

"It seems you have done that," his mom said, struggling for some kind of segue. "What um- did you do with everything else?"

Chad waved a vague hand at the accumulation of boxes and bags near the door to the room. "Trash. Donation. Storage."

In his peripherals, he saw his mom's expression pinch in an unhappy look. "The storage box isn't very big."

"I don't need to store that much," Chad hummed, pretending to be distracted. "I don't need to hold onto all this junk, just the important stuff. That's what makes it special."

There, that sounded like something Dumb Chad would say.

There was also a box of things labeled 'Jane's stuff' at the back of the closet that Chad was pretty sure Dumb Chad had been attempting to hide, and he just- he wasn't ready to dig into that nightmare, but he would if it got him away from his not-dead mom.

"…okay," his mom said, crossing gracefully over to the trash bags and beginning to peer into them. "You took down your Tourney stuff."

"It's kind of an eyesore," Chad said, trying not to be too vindictive when he shoved the comforter into a trash bag. He'd set it on fire if he could but that was wasteful, so he'd just have to settle for getting it aggressively out of his sight.

"But you love Tourney," his mom said, not an accusation, but an understandable confusion of a woman whose son had enjoyed Tourney the day before and seemed to detest it now.

"Loved," Chad corrected. "I loved Tourney, and now I have grown." He tied off the garbage bag and tried not to laugh maniacally when he dragged it over to join the rest of the donations. "Could I get a real comforter?"

The queen blinked up from her garbage bag perusal, seeming unhappy with what she found. "Of course, sweetheart, but are you sure you want to get rid of your old one?"

"Positive," Chad said, internally laughing when he remembered his grandfather's old adage of how 'only fools were positive'.

The queen abandoned her plight to follow Chad over to his bookcases where he finished sorting the relevant, non-indulgent books (he'd have kept some of the indulgent ones, but Dumb Chad's taste was kind of tragic, so Chad would have to locate his own guilty pleasures).

"You really combed through your books," the queen said.

"Yeah, it's a lot nicer," Chad declared, deciding to take her comment as a compliment. "I'm gonna do the closet next."

"Kit…" his mom began, looking geared up for a real heart-to-heart conversation, when there was (fortunately), another knock on the door.

"Kit, kiddo?" Chad's father said, the man he hadn't had a conversation with since… ever. "Is there any reason Ben's calling me with the demand that I not allow you touch my phone?"

"Because he's obnoxious, that's why," Chad countered, holding onto his annoyance so he wouldn't get lost in the absurdity of it all. "Sorry about that."

He opened the door, revealing a king that was healthy and happy and didn't seem at all to be a sad shell of his former self, wearing that small grin Chad had always hoped for but given up on seeing.

"Whoa," the king said, looking around Chad's room with wide eyes. "This is… really clean. Where'd all your stuff go?"

"Donation, trash, storage," Chad said, frowning when he saw his mom transferring some of the arts and crafts knickknacks into a storage bin. "Mom."

"These are gifts, sweetie," his mom tutted. "You don't throw away gifts."

"I think I've held onto them long enough," Chad declared, because he was pretty sure the lopsided pinch pot painted in Auradon blue and yellow was not a recent artistic endeavor. "You can't just hold onto junk forever; you'll end up drowning in it."

His mom gave him a wounded look. "It's not junk, these are memories."

"Mom, that dish is one good drop away from breaking. It is holding onto existence by a thread. If I can let it go, so can you."

"Is he throwing away my pinch pot?" Chad heard echoing from his father's phone, and it was then that Chad realized his dad had the thing on speaker. "Chad, we promised to keep those forever."

"Grow up, Ben," Chad huffed. "And stop bothering my parents."

He frowned when his dad tugged the phone out of reach, seeming to take Ben's words to heart, so Chad abandoned both of his parents and grabbed up a new trash bag so he could attack the monstrosity that was his closet.

Unfortunately, his dad followed right on his heels. "Kiddo, your room wasn't exactly dirty before," said the guy who did not know what true order was. "And we're just worried, is all. We don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

"Then you've got nothing to fear because I'm great," Chad said, frowning at a jean jacket he was pretty sure had rhinestones or some shit before he immediately shoved it into the trash bag.

"You love that coat," his dad said, blinking dumbly.

"This coat?" Chad asked, pulling it back just so he could stare at it again.

"Of course," his dad said, blinking. "Audrey spent a lot of time bedazzling that for you."

"Is he doing something to his sparkly coat?" Ben asked, and Chad had officially reached his limit of people interacting in his personal space when that normally like, never happened.

"Ben, I will see you when school starts," Chad said, because Dumb Chad had summoned him about the same time things had really kicked off for Auradon, a few months before sophomore year. "Until then, worry about your own stuff, okay?"

"No," Ben huffed. "This is stupid. You shouldn't change yourself just because some awful gossip sites decided to do a slanderous exposé on you, a minor, whose only crime was being good friends with me and Audrey."

Chad filed the information away for later review and went back to bagging the clothes that he would never in his life indulge to wear. Maybe Dumb Chad was a fashionista?

Ugh, that's what he was. That explained all this ugly ass bullshit clothing. How the fuck could high profile fashion help him rule a kingdom?

Oh yeah – it wouldn't, and that was why this holographic, faux fur, obnoxious bullshit was all going to be donated. Chad shuddered just looking at the shoes.

Look, he had nothing against fashion, but he was going to be a king someday and if he wanted to be a boss, he had to dress like one to give him the right attitude. Which was not to say that one could not be a boss in rhinestones and holographic sweaters – it just wasn't what made him feel confident, and if it was his life, he was the one that needed the right mindset. He liked his slick business outfits and sweaters and button ups, of which Dumb Chad seemed to have like, barely any.

He was going to have to go shopping after this. Fuck it all.

"Son," his dad said when Chad chose not to reply, focusing on getting rid of more than half the stupid wardrobe. He should save it for Evie. Maybe she could repurpose this stuff into something useful. He made a note to set aside all the stuff in Hanover's colors. "You should listen to Ben. There isn't a damn thing wrong with you. I know it's hard losing Jane, dealing with living under the public watching your every movement, but you don't have to change who you are just to fit some mold that you think is expected of you."

"What if I want to change?" Chad asked neutrally, still somewhat thrown at getting a pep talk from his father. "Aren't I allowed that?"

"You can do whatever you want," Chad's father said. "Your mother and I will always support you; we just want you to do what makes you happy."

"Great," Chad said, throwing away a poncho, of all things. "Then I'm good to go."

There was a pause, and then he caught his dad hanging up his phone in his peripherals, tucking the thing in his pocket.

"So," he said after a beat. "Want help?"

Chad froze, not expecting the offer, then tentatively passed over his bag, letting the king – who had substantially better things to do – help him clear out his closet until something close to his original wardrobe lingered behind.

It wasn't everything, but it was a start.

-:-:-

Between Chad and his parents they were able to finish Project Overhaul in a few short hours.

Granted, they were hours Chad spent assuring his parents that he had this handled, that they could go back to whatever their scheduled activities were, but his mom actually rolled her eyes at him before she went back to folding clothes, so he guessed stubbornness just ran in the family. By the end of it he was pretty sure his mom had redirected everything to storage instead of donating or trashing it like Chad had requested, but it was out of the way and that was all that mattered.

"Come on," his mom said, tugging him towards the door. "You lost half your wardrobe."

"More than half," his dad murmured.

"We need to go shopping," his mother continued, grinning brightly. "It will be good; you haven't been outside in a while."

"I can just buy online," Chad said, but the woman continued as though she hadn't heard him, earning a laugh from his father.

And that was how Chad ended up shopping with his new mom and dad, doing boring, practical bonding stuff that he'd never expected to experience… ever. This was all kinds of new.

"No pink?" his mom had asked, still seeming somewhat baffled by the menswear boutique Chad had dragged them into.

"No, mom," Chad said diplomatically. "Sticking with light blue and gray."

Though he did get yellow shoes, if only because they'd pissed off his grandfather in his old dimension, and that in itself filled Chad with a warm, fuzzy feeling of spite.

"This is… very classic," his father said as they reviewed the selection of slacks, button ups, sweaters, and blazers, his mom sneaking in a few more casual things that Chad allowed because they were at least in the right color pallet.

"Can't go wrong with classic," Chad hummed, considering a few ties because Dumb Chad didn't have those for whatever reason.

By the end of it he was pretty sure there were a couple dozen brightly patterned socks in their shopping bags his mother had no idea about, though otherwise it was a respectable wardrobe, closer to what Chad had back then, which was all Chad really needed.

He was in the process of evaluating his next step when his mom let out a thoughtful hum he was beginning to realize didn't mean good things for him.

"We should go to L'Oiseau Blanc," she declared. "It's been so long since the three of us have had dinner there."

"That's brilliant," his dad said, brightening up. "Let me call dad so he can meet us there."

"And pull Nonso from whatever he's doing too," his mom added.

"Ah, yes," his dad grinned. "What good is being king if I can't abuse my authority in minor ways?"

Chad, who as a matter of habit didn't go out to eat (too easy to get poisoned), shifted uneasily. "You guys could have a date, if you want. I've got some stuff I need to take care of back at the castle."

"Kit, my sweet," his mother interrupted. "We support all of your studying efforts, but part of being royal is juggling work with play and right now, you've been working very hard without taking any breaks."

"In short, you are joining us for dinner," his father declared. "But it will be fun! L'Oiseau Blanc!"

Chad had no idea what this restaurant was but it seemed to mean a lot to his parents, who were beaming at him with matching expressions of excitement.

It was, unquestionably, weird.

But it was also easier to go with the flow, so he guessed he was going to do that.

"Okay," Chad said, and he managed not to flinch when they both cheered, but just barely.

He'd always wanted parents, he just sort of wished he'd gotten them before he'd become a asshole cynic.

But he knew better than anyone else how you didn't always get what you wanted, so he didn't dwell on it too much.

-:-:-

Endnotes:

This is an idea I had for a while that I'd been playing around with, working on it a bit here and there with no real expectation of ever properly fleshing it out. With the help of Shrek the Musical (I know, I was also surprised), I somehow got through, and we have yet another adventure of snarky, politically competent Chad – kicking ass and taking names. For those of you that have been hoping for a fic where we get live-Ella, here she is.

Spoiler – At no point is Ben prepared for this.

This story will consist of 10 chapters of story content, plus an additional chapter that acts as an epilogue. I update once a week, generally on Sundays, but because things have been so crazy lately, I decided to make an effort to update twice a week. So there will be one update on Sunday and one update on Wednesday/Thursday for now :D

Please let me know if I missed anything in the tags. I prefer to ere on the side of caution with these things, but when you've been staring at something for so long, it can be easy for things to slip through the cracks.

Just a heads up – I update the story tags as I go in order to avoid spoilers. So characters, pairings, content warnings – all will be updated in correlation to the appropriate chapter as they are posted. Also, if you see a tag you're worried about, check the forenotes – the more hard-hitting stuff will have more thorough warnings listed there.

Story notes:

Sardinia is my name for Cinderellasburg.

Only fools are positive is from Fern Gully.

For the sake of making my life easier, we're going to say the age of majority in Auradon is twenty years old for this story, and anyone under that is considered a minor. Chad is seventeen when he gets teleported into his fifteen-year-old body – just to alleviate any sort of confusion.

L'Oiseau Blanc is an actual restaurant in Paris, though aside from the name I know nothing about it. Just grabbed it because Sardinia is based on real day France and it sounded like a restaurant royal people could visit :D

They never deigned to give the Captain of the Guard an actual name in the live action remake of Cinderella, which is why I refer to him as the actor's name – Nonso Anozie, or Captain Anozie.

Until next time :)