[Cinderella: Drabble] "Her Mother's" [G]
Title: Her Mother’s
Prompt: writerverse challenge #03 phase 9 table of doom, prompt #15 ‘shreds’ (444 words)
Word Count: 444
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Cinderella (any version)
Pairings: none (implied Cinderella/Prince)
Summary: Out of all the queen’s things, Princess Charlotte is drawn to one old, tattered dress.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Her Mother's
Most people, entering Queen Ella’s dressing chamber, were immediately drawn to the large painting of a masquerade and the cushion beneath it, which held two dainty glass slippers.
Princess Charlotte ignored the slippers every time. She ignored the enameled boxes and perfume bottles, the satin shoes and silk gowns… to carefully take out a tattered dress, hidden away in the back of the wardrobe.
Charlotte stood at mirror, the dress in front of her, though she knew every seam and tear of it.
It had been fashionable once. The fabric was expensive, sewn with tiny perfect stitches. It had taken a lot of force to break the threads that hung, ragged, against the bodice, to tear the material of the skirt and fray it so badly.
Not for the first time, Charlotte wondered why her mother kept the dress with her gowns. She had other clothes from her old life, dresses and skirts and aprons, worn and patched, folded neatly in the drawer with the newer working clothes she still wore often.
So what was different about this dress?
“It was my mother’s,” said a voice from the doorway.
Charlotte whirled, and saw her mother standing there, looking at the dress she was clutching to her chest. “Mama!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
But Ella was smiling, reaching out a hand to touch the torn fabric. “This dress,” she said. “It had been my mother’s. She had packed it away in the attic, and when Stepmother sent me to live there, I found it. I had kept it, until the announcement of the Royal Ball. It was… an outdated fashion, so I spruced it up with some ribbons and things that my stepsisters had thrown away.”
Ella paused, still gently stroking the skirt of the dress. “I’d done so much work, been so obliging, that I really thought they would let me go with them. But my stepsisters tore the dress to shreds. My mother’s dress.”
“Oh,” said Charlotte.
Everyone knew the story of ‘Cinderella’, who had been sent to the ball by her fairy godmother and married the prince. But even Charlotte had never really thought what had come before.
Ella took the dress, holding it up to her. “You’re a little taller than I was at thirteen, Lottie,” she said. “Would you like to try it on?”
“Could I?” Charlotte breathed.
Her mother nodded. “You should.”
She helped Charlotte carefully into the torn dress, and stand in front of the mirror again.
“Grandmama would be proud of you,” said Charlotte, looking at their reflections.
“Because I’m queen?” Ella asked.
“No. Because you’re good.”
And in the mirror, Charlotte’s mother smiled.
THE END
Current Mood:
nerdy
Prompt: writerverse challenge #03 phase 9 table of doom, prompt #15 ‘shreds’ (444 words)
Word Count: 444
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Cinderella (any version)
Pairings: none (implied Cinderella/Prince)
Summary: Out of all the queen’s things, Princess Charlotte is drawn to one old, tattered dress.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Her Mother's
Most people, entering Queen Ella’s dressing chamber, were immediately drawn to the large painting of a masquerade and the cushion beneath it, which held two dainty glass slippers.
Princess Charlotte ignored the slippers every time. She ignored the enameled boxes and perfume bottles, the satin shoes and silk gowns… to carefully take out a tattered dress, hidden away in the back of the wardrobe.
Charlotte stood at mirror, the dress in front of her, though she knew every seam and tear of it.
It had been fashionable once. The fabric was expensive, sewn with tiny perfect stitches. It had taken a lot of force to break the threads that hung, ragged, against the bodice, to tear the material of the skirt and fray it so badly.
Not for the first time, Charlotte wondered why her mother kept the dress with her gowns. She had other clothes from her old life, dresses and skirts and aprons, worn and patched, folded neatly in the drawer with the newer working clothes she still wore often.
So what was different about this dress?
“It was my mother’s,” said a voice from the doorway.
Charlotte whirled, and saw her mother standing there, looking at the dress she was clutching to her chest. “Mama!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
But Ella was smiling, reaching out a hand to touch the torn fabric. “This dress,” she said. “It had been my mother’s. She had packed it away in the attic, and when Stepmother sent me to live there, I found it. I had kept it, until the announcement of the Royal Ball. It was… an outdated fashion, so I spruced it up with some ribbons and things that my stepsisters had thrown away.”
Ella paused, still gently stroking the skirt of the dress. “I’d done so much work, been so obliging, that I really thought they would let me go with them. But my stepsisters tore the dress to shreds. My mother’s dress.”
“Oh,” said Charlotte.
Everyone knew the story of ‘Cinderella’, who had been sent to the ball by her fairy godmother and married the prince. But even Charlotte had never really thought what had come before.
Ella took the dress, holding it up to her. “You’re a little taller than I was at thirteen, Lottie,” she said. “Would you like to try it on?”
“Could I?” Charlotte breathed.
Her mother nodded. “You should.”
She helped Charlotte carefully into the torn dress, and stand in front of the mirror again.
“Grandmama would be proud of you,” said Charlotte, looking at their reflections.
“Because I’m queen?” Ella asked.
“No. Because you’re good.”
And in the mirror, Charlotte’s mother smiled.
THE END
Current Mood:
nerdy