Cinderojo (PG)
Rating: PG for slightly naughty words.
Pairing: Ivan Ramiro Cordoba/Marcos Rojo
Words: 1,300
Disclaimer: This is not true.
In honour of the slippers.
Once upon a time there was a handsome young man called Marcos. He lived in a tumbledown shack with his two sisters, Costinha and Maniche. Since Marcos was the youngest and had hair that stuck up, Costinha and Maniche made him do all the housework. He got covered with ashes whenever he swept out the fire, and as the coal in that geographical area contained an unusual amount of iron oxide this turned him red. He was therefore known as Cinderojo.
One spring evening, Marcos was halfway through the housework and Maniche and Costinha were sulking because they hadn't been invited to some drag ball or other. Marcos was kneeling by the fire praying loudly to his battery of saints to give him the strength to continue when a cloud of soot shot down the chimney and there came a tremendous squawk. When the soot had cleared somewhat, Marcos saw an astonishingly-dressed creature floating in mid-air. From the quantity of ruffles, he deduced it was a fairy.
"MARCOS!" the fairy shouted. "I am Cuchurella the Contentious, and you shall go to the ball!"
"I've got one here," Marcos said, proffering the Primeira Liga one.
"NOT THAT SORT OF BALL!" screeched Cuchurella, and waved her wand. There was a small cyclone of dust and soot and Marcos found himself dressed in tremendous finery. The fairy had transformed his pyjamas into a beautiful ball gown, and he had diamonds in every piercing.
"Thank you," he said, "but, erm. My sisters will have woken up from all the screeching..."
"Oh, don’t worry about that," Cuchurella nattered. "I have them in an enchanted sleep. Now! Remember that you must leave the ball before the end of extra time, or you will once more turn into Cinderojo!"
Then she changed Maniche and Costinha's Fiat into a Maserati, two squirrels into security guards and the man who delivered the Betterware catalogue into a chauffeur. Everything was ready and Marcos, somewhat overwhelmed, departed for the ball.
At the Castello San Siro, Prince Ivan was shuffling gloomily around the dancefloor. All the guests were incredibly ugly and only interested in his money, title and enormous knob. Furthermore, King Javier was vetting the guests, so they were all far, far too old... But just as he was thinking this he saw a delightful creature in a fabulous dress, and the creature was not a day over 23. Prince Ivan rushed to his side, smouldered and said, "Care to dance?" in Spanish.
"Yes, please," beamed Rojo, who was relieved to have someone to show him the steps. The fact that this person was a Hispanophone just proved they were meant to be. (He did not know that Prince Ivan, who was deeply religious, was busy admiring his tattoos of saints.)
After two hours' dancing and unsubtle groping, which the pair enjoyed immensely, Marcos suddenly remembered the fairy's warning. Looking over to the side of the dancefloor, he saw Master of Ceremonies Banti holding up a lightboard. There were only two minutes of injury time!
"Just going for a piss," Marcos blurted out, and he ran. Prince Ivan waited good-naturedly for about thirty seconds, then became terribly worried and overprotective. He searched the dancefloor, then the toilets, then accosted random strangers and demanded to know if they had seen the captivating angel with the tattoos and the pointy hair. At length King Javier and Queen Bedy were obliged to stop the ball and ask whether any of the guests had seen the mysterious gentleman.
Alas, nobody knew his whereabouts (he was in fact already at home enduring the snoring of Maniche and the crashing Betterware man), but one bright guest recalled seeing someone fleeing the hall and tripping over his lion slippers. One of them had fallen off, and this was duly produced and handed over to the royal family. (The fairy Cuchurella had transformed Marcos's pyjamas, but in her excitement had forgotten about his fluffy slippers.)
The following day Marcos was emptying chamber-pots and thinking wistfully about Prince Ivan when one of his sisters' irritating friends barged in. From their window he overheard the friend wittering on about how a mysterious beauty had attended last night's drag ball, a slipper had been left behind and the royal family were scouring the countryside for the person whose foot it would fit. Marcos was so thrilled and flattered by this he stood around grinning vacuously until his sisters bundled him into an old goal net and locked him in the kit room. Shortly afterwards he heard the prince's motorcade pulling up outside.
Prince Ivan was a bit put out when the two sisters came running towards him, since they weren't his type and, indeed, he wasn't quite sure whose type they would be. Nevertheless, the sacred lion slipper was produced and the sisters tried it on. Alas, it was far too small.
"Is there anyone else in this residence?" Sergeant Guarin demanded.
"Certainly not," the sisters said promptly, because if they couldn't have the prince themselves, they were going to make damn sure Cinderojo didn't.
"Leave it, Fredy," Prince Ivan said sadly. They had inspected six hundred houses that day and he was beginning to doubt they would ever find his beloved.
"Certainly not," said the sergeant, his eyes glinting. "We do not leave until we have seen everyone in the house."
In the kit room, Marcos was quite certain his true love was nearby. He willed Prince Ivan or the fairy Cuchurella to notice his presence. Unfortunately, the sisters had gagged him with an old sock, and the fairy had already forgotten Marcos because she was off transforming someone else. Marcos refused to give in to despair; he made loud grunting and moaning noises, and Sergeant Guarin, who could hear good-looking young men at a thousand paces, started moving towards his poky prison.
The two sisters, who had been following the sergeant with increasing agitation as he poked about in their outhouses, hurled themselves upon him and started throttling him with his gun. All might have been lost had not King Javier, slightly worried for the prince's safety, sent an elite assassin along with him. Within moments Special Agent Milly was threatening the sisters with an improbable array of weapons while Sergeant Guarin scampered over to the kit room to free Marcos.
Prince Ivan had never seen anything as lovely as the vision that ran towards him in the goal net. (Marcos had removed the old sock.) While the special agent charged the sisters with obstructing a police officer, Prince Ivan knelt down and presented Marcos with the fluffy slipper to try on (though this was mostly a formality, as he was still wearing the other one). The prince wept tears of joy when it fitted; he leapt into Marcos's arms, causing them both to fall over and get tangled up in the net. The onlookers cheered deafeningly, especially Sergeant Guarin.
Two months later Prince Ivan and his intended were married at the Castello San Siro. It was filled to capacity, as everyone in the kingdom had been invited, including the fairy Cuchurella (gagged by Special Agent Milly), the Betterware man and Marcos's sisters, who had only got two weeks in jail. Marcos wore a shimmering gown and the finest slippers in the kingdom, since Ivan had become slightly obsessed with the old ones and had them framed. Queen Bedy approved enormously of her new son-in-law, and King Javier, though he had follicular reservations, was relieved Marcos was over 16. After the reception asado the couple went on honeymoon in Bolivia, then settled down to produce a footballing dynasty. Everyone lived fluffily ever after.
Pairing: Ivan Ramiro Cordoba/Marcos Rojo
Words: 1,300
Disclaimer: This is not true.
In honour of the slippers.
Once upon a time there was a handsome young man called Marcos. He lived in a tumbledown shack with his two sisters, Costinha and Maniche. Since Marcos was the youngest and had hair that stuck up, Costinha and Maniche made him do all the housework. He got covered with ashes whenever he swept out the fire, and as the coal in that geographical area contained an unusual amount of iron oxide this turned him red. He was therefore known as Cinderojo.
One spring evening, Marcos was halfway through the housework and Maniche and Costinha were sulking because they hadn't been invited to some drag ball or other. Marcos was kneeling by the fire praying loudly to his battery of saints to give him the strength to continue when a cloud of soot shot down the chimney and there came a tremendous squawk. When the soot had cleared somewhat, Marcos saw an astonishingly-dressed creature floating in mid-air. From the quantity of ruffles, he deduced it was a fairy.
"MARCOS!" the fairy shouted. "I am Cuchurella the Contentious, and you shall go to the ball!"
"I've got one here," Marcos said, proffering the Primeira Liga one.
"NOT THAT SORT OF BALL!" screeched Cuchurella, and waved her wand. There was a small cyclone of dust and soot and Marcos found himself dressed in tremendous finery. The fairy had transformed his pyjamas into a beautiful ball gown, and he had diamonds in every piercing.
"Thank you," he said, "but, erm. My sisters will have woken up from all the screeching..."
"Oh, don’t worry about that," Cuchurella nattered. "I have them in an enchanted sleep. Now! Remember that you must leave the ball before the end of extra time, or you will once more turn into Cinderojo!"
Then she changed Maniche and Costinha's Fiat into a Maserati, two squirrels into security guards and the man who delivered the Betterware catalogue into a chauffeur. Everything was ready and Marcos, somewhat overwhelmed, departed for the ball.
At the Castello San Siro, Prince Ivan was shuffling gloomily around the dancefloor. All the guests were incredibly ugly and only interested in his money, title and enormous knob. Furthermore, King Javier was vetting the guests, so they were all far, far too old... But just as he was thinking this he saw a delightful creature in a fabulous dress, and the creature was not a day over 23. Prince Ivan rushed to his side, smouldered and said, "Care to dance?" in Spanish.
"Yes, please," beamed Rojo, who was relieved to have someone to show him the steps. The fact that this person was a Hispanophone just proved they were meant to be. (He did not know that Prince Ivan, who was deeply religious, was busy admiring his tattoos of saints.)
After two hours' dancing and unsubtle groping, which the pair enjoyed immensely, Marcos suddenly remembered the fairy's warning. Looking over to the side of the dancefloor, he saw Master of Ceremonies Banti holding up a lightboard. There were only two minutes of injury time!
"Just going for a piss," Marcos blurted out, and he ran. Prince Ivan waited good-naturedly for about thirty seconds, then became terribly worried and overprotective. He searched the dancefloor, then the toilets, then accosted random strangers and demanded to know if they had seen the captivating angel with the tattoos and the pointy hair. At length King Javier and Queen Bedy were obliged to stop the ball and ask whether any of the guests had seen the mysterious gentleman.
Alas, nobody knew his whereabouts (he was in fact already at home enduring the snoring of Maniche and the crashing Betterware man), but one bright guest recalled seeing someone fleeing the hall and tripping over his lion slippers. One of them had fallen off, and this was duly produced and handed over to the royal family. (The fairy Cuchurella had transformed Marcos's pyjamas, but in her excitement had forgotten about his fluffy slippers.)
The following day Marcos was emptying chamber-pots and thinking wistfully about Prince Ivan when one of his sisters' irritating friends barged in. From their window he overheard the friend wittering on about how a mysterious beauty had attended last night's drag ball, a slipper had been left behind and the royal family were scouring the countryside for the person whose foot it would fit. Marcos was so thrilled and flattered by this he stood around grinning vacuously until his sisters bundled him into an old goal net and locked him in the kit room. Shortly afterwards he heard the prince's motorcade pulling up outside.
Prince Ivan was a bit put out when the two sisters came running towards him, since they weren't his type and, indeed, he wasn't quite sure whose type they would be. Nevertheless, the sacred lion slipper was produced and the sisters tried it on. Alas, it was far too small.
"Is there anyone else in this residence?" Sergeant Guarin demanded.
"Certainly not," the sisters said promptly, because if they couldn't have the prince themselves, they were going to make damn sure Cinderojo didn't.
"Leave it, Fredy," Prince Ivan said sadly. They had inspected six hundred houses that day and he was beginning to doubt they would ever find his beloved.
"Certainly not," said the sergeant, his eyes glinting. "We do not leave until we have seen everyone in the house."
In the kit room, Marcos was quite certain his true love was nearby. He willed Prince Ivan or the fairy Cuchurella to notice his presence. Unfortunately, the sisters had gagged him with an old sock, and the fairy had already forgotten Marcos because she was off transforming someone else. Marcos refused to give in to despair; he made loud grunting and moaning noises, and Sergeant Guarin, who could hear good-looking young men at a thousand paces, started moving towards his poky prison.
The two sisters, who had been following the sergeant with increasing agitation as he poked about in their outhouses, hurled themselves upon him and started throttling him with his gun. All might have been lost had not King Javier, slightly worried for the prince's safety, sent an elite assassin along with him. Within moments Special Agent Milly was threatening the sisters with an improbable array of weapons while Sergeant Guarin scampered over to the kit room to free Marcos.
Prince Ivan had never seen anything as lovely as the vision that ran towards him in the goal net. (Marcos had removed the old sock.) While the special agent charged the sisters with obstructing a police officer, Prince Ivan knelt down and presented Marcos with the fluffy slipper to try on (though this was mostly a formality, as he was still wearing the other one). The prince wept tears of joy when it fitted; he leapt into Marcos's arms, causing them both to fall over and get tangled up in the net. The onlookers cheered deafeningly, especially Sergeant Guarin.
Two months later Prince Ivan and his intended were married at the Castello San Siro. It was filled to capacity, as everyone in the kingdom had been invited, including the fairy Cuchurella (gagged by Special Agent Milly), the Betterware man and Marcos's sisters, who had only got two weeks in jail. Marcos wore a shimmering gown and the finest slippers in the kingdom, since Ivan had become slightly obsessed with the old ones and had them framed. Queen Bedy approved enormously of her new son-in-law, and King Javier, though he had follicular reservations, was relieved Marcos was over 16. After the reception asado the couple went on honeymoon in Bolivia, then settled down to produce a footballing dynasty. Everyone lived fluffily ever after.