Cinderella

[Part One]

[by Firefly]





Once upon a time there was a little kingdom. And in that little kingdom there lived a little prince.

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"ONNA!"

But you are kinda short...

"I am of average height. It's not my fault everyone else is too tall! Anyway, I'm still taller than you, and-"

Okay okay! Some people are so touchy!

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So in this little kingdom was a prince of average height who had a fetching way with a sword. The King and Queen of this dinky little kingdom were very proud of their son (who had such a fetching way with a sword), but they had just one problem. The small matter of the royal succession.

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"Injustice!"

Now what is it?

"It is no small matter!"

Hentai.

<thump>

Oh goody, now the main character's unconscious I might be able to get through this ^_^

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In the throne room, one afternoon, just after teatime...

"Come on son, how do you know you won't like it until you try it?"

"Hah! I will not talk to a girl! They are all weaklings!"

"But if you won't talk to them dear, then how are you going to..."

"What?"

"Oh never mind. We've found a lovely girl for you to meet later-"

At this point Prince Wufei clapped his hands over his ears, started singing at the top of his voice, and jumped out of the window.

Pity the throne room's on the first floor. Oh well, leaving Prince Wufei to the dread fate of being nursed back to health from a sprained wrist and a bump on the head by a whole gaggle of maidservants, let us travel across the capital city to a mansion. (Slightly shabby, but a steal at the price and a housefixers dream).

In this mansion there lived a girl (and her wicked stepmother and two ugly stepsisters). This girl was beautiful, innocent and good.

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"I'm a girl?!"

Uhm...

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That is, the beautiful inhabitant of the mansion (who just happened to be called Duo) had been brought up as a girl, but was actually a boy. The reason he'd been brought up as a girl was that the wicked stepmother and two ugly stepsisters were too miserly to hire servants, and too lazy to do the work themselves. In that particular male-dominated society, the women did the housework, so Duo became a girl.

And so, while the evil step mother and ugly stepsisters went from ball to soiree to party, poor Duo was made to do all the housework- he had to do the vacuuming, launder the clothes, turn on the dishwasher and feed the fish. He used to have to do the cooking too, but that was stopped. Very shortly after a dinner party held for the local regiment and their wives. They never did find the horseradish.

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The King and Queen soon began to despair of Prince Wufei ever choosing a bride, as beautiful girl after beautiful girl was rejected out of hand by their stubborn son. And so, six weeks before his birthday, they decided to take matters into their own hands. In a manner of speaking. They would hold a ball, to which they would invite every eligible maiden in the country. (They had run out of foreign royalty after Prince Wufei discovered that, to a girl, not one of them could fight, fence, or spend less than one hour in the bathroom every morning.)

The Prince's reaction was predictable. That was the only good thing about it; he locked himself in his room and refused to come out. Until somehow he got the idea that the maids were laughing at him. He could not have weak onnas mocking him! And so out he came, and resumed his normal routine, even if it was a tad sulkily.

The Queen gave the maids a pay rise.

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In the mansion, the news was received somewhat differently. The girls were delighted, needless to state, and immediately hit the sales with poor Duo in tow. He may have been brought up as a girl, but they still considered him a boy when it counted, such as when there were lots of heavy shopping bags to be carried.
More than adequately funded by their beaming Mamma, there seemed to be no end to the purchases of the pestilent pair (or beginning to their taste). There were never-ending discussions over style, pattern and fabric, but as the sun sank in the west, everything was finally decided, and after diner, Duo was set to work.

The miserliness of the stepmother extended to the hiring of a seamstress for any work that needed doing, and Duo could sew beautifully, as could all maidens of his age. Consequently, he had been ordered to undertake the manufacture and care of all the clothes of the lazy trio. After it had been made quite clear to him that no, they did *not* want entire wardrobes of black.

In addition to making the ballgowns, Duo would also be his sisters' hairdresser for the evening. Being possessed of a wealth of glorious brown hair had made him expert at manipulating stubborn tresses that just won't lie how you want them to on the one occasion you really need them to. In short, he was well aware of what a bad hair day truly means. Plus, his hair always looked stunning.

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Prince Wufei did his very best to avoid the hustle and the bustle of the preparations for the ball, but far too soon came the night itself. And while Prince Wufei spent most of his last day of freedom evading the food committee, the music committee, the decorations committee and people who kept trying to stick pins in him, in the mansion it was very... actually, it was quite similar.

Duo had been in constant demand all day long. First a hem needed straightening, then a bow was unfortunately yanked off during a minor scuffle over a pair of earrings and needed to be sewn back on. Then sister #1 found a spot, and sister #2 discovered a split end, and it all came to a climax when the evil stepmother was sufficiently frazzled to forget herself long enough to ask Duo to make snacks for them all.

Several hours and trips to the bathroom later, the coach finally arrived to carry the girls and their mother off to the ball. Duo wandered into the living room and settled down on a chair with a small sigh. He had been on his feet all day and was looking forward to a quiet night in with a nice mug of hot chocolate.

The doorbell rang.

Grumbling to himself about stupid girls who couldn't even check they had everything they needed before they left, Duo got up to answer it. He opened the door ready with a speech about scatterbrained onnas, which died unspoken on his lips as he beheld the short blond boy standing on the doorstep. Wearing a pink tutu.

"Can I... help you?" Duo was uncertain about whether he would want to help the strange boy, but he had been brought up to be polite.

"Are you Duo?" To give him credit, the boy seemed to realise how patently foolish he must look, and appeared suitably ashamed.

"Yeeees..." Duo drew out his answer, even more uncertain he wanted to admit it.

"Oh good, I've been looking for your house all evening. I'm Quatre, your fairy godmother. Duo, you shall go to the ball!"

............

"Can I come in? Only it's a bit chilly out here."

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A few minutes later Quatre was sitting in the living room with Duo, drinking a cup of tea. It had never occurred to Duo to disbelieve his self-proclaimed fairy godmother- after all, every properly brought up young maiden knew about them. Also, why else would the guy voluntarily deck himself out in a pink tutu? No, Duo didn't have a problem with having a fairy godmother. Except for one small point.

"But I don't want to go to the ball!" Duo yelled. He had tried explaining it calmly and rationally, but Quatre seemed confused by this simple concept and his temper had finally snapped.

"Of course you do. Why else would you be sitting in the kitchen crying?"

"I wasn't! I was sitting out here enjoying my hot chocolate in peace and quiet! Of course, if I'd been in the kitchen I probably would have been crying- it's an absolute tip in there! But really, I was just gonna watch TV- there's a really good movie on tonight. Hey, d'you wanna stay? Cos that would be fun, and..."

Quatre just sat there, stunned by the deluge of words that seemed to spring forth effortlessly (not to mention endlessly) from the braided boy's lips. He gradually recovered his composure and struggled to get his head around Duo's refusal to attend the ball.

"So... you don't want to go to the ball?"

"No!"

"But... why ever not?" Quatre was staring to look a little upset.

"Why would I want to?"

"But... you have to go! You're supposed to go! It's like my raison d'être! Do you have any idea how much trouble I'll get into if you don't go? Plus you're really starting to hurt my feelings..." Realising that this probably wouldn't wash, Quatre started firing off incentives right and left. "...Uh, good music! Free food! Narrative convention!" He was starting to get a little desperate.

"Free food?"

But suddenly it seemed as though everything was coming up roses.

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There were a few small problems.

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"No way! I know I agreed to go to the ball, but there's absolutely no freakin' way I'm wearing a dress. And if you quote narrative convention at me one more time, I'm gonna get violent. My head still hurts from when you hit me to make me cry!"

"But you were supposed to be crying in the kitchen!" Quatre was beginning to wish he'd accepted this job. It was all very well having an unlimited supply of patience, but not when you had to use it all!

"There's no way I'm going out dressed like that. Do you have any idea how annoying those old Lords can be? I had to use a frying pan to get rid if the last one!"

"Huh? How do you...? You know what? I really don't want to know. The point is, none of those guys are going- it'll be mostly girls. Anyway, I wear a dress, and I'm a guy."

"...Oh. Okay then. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"The dress I get won't be designed by the same people that did yours."

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But everything worked out just fine in the end.

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Several hours after his arrival Quatre finally managed to pack Duo into a coach and send him on his way. He waited until the coach rounded the corner before he sank to the ground in exhaustion. A shadow appeared over him- he looked up and smiled at his uni-banged lover who had, as usual, arrived just in time to pick him up from work.

"Long day?" Asked Trowa, calm as usual.

"Like you would not believe. This guy took so long to convince and then get ready, I had to skip the whole pumpkin thing and phone for a hire-coach. And don't even get me started on the Snow White wannabe I had earlier- she didn't wake up when the Prince kissed her, and we ended up having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on her!"

"So that's a yes then." Trowa smiled to himself. Quatre always cared so much for the young people placed in his charge.

"Definitely. But-" Quatre looked down the drive where the coach had driven off a few minutes ago, "I've got a really good feeling about these two. You know what I mean?"

Trowa looked down at the sunny-hearted boy in his arms. "I do." He said quietly.

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"Oh dear..."

"What?"

"I forgot to tell him about the whole midnight thing."

"He's a bright boy. He'll figure it out when his clothes disappear."

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[On to part 2! ^_^]