The Pleasure of a Dance {2/2}afterandalasiaOctober 18 2012, 12:03:44 UTC
“If you wished to apologise for being in the gardens, then it is hardly necessary,” he said, as she wiped away her tears, “when I am here as well. If it was for crying, why, you have stopped; and if it was for startling so then I have only myself to blame.” His tone was so warm that she managed a faint smile. “Which must lead me to conclude that you wished to apologise for being so unimaginably beautiful as to have caught me entirely off-guard, which is certainly far from a sin.”
Heat and colour rushed to her cheeks as, eyes widening, she stared at him. In her hand-me-down dress that the other women had sneered at, with pink cheeks and nose from crying, with skin made golden by the sun and rough with work, and he called her beautiful? Never had such a word been applied to her.
It did not escape her, though, that she was in a secluded place with a strange man. She pushed the crumpled handkerchief back into his hands. “I thank you for your kind words, sir, and for your ’kerchief, but I really must go.”
The faint sound of music drifted through the trees. It had been so long since she had heard any music other than that produced in her own home.
“Please.” His hand brushed against her arm again, and although the night was not cold his touch was pleasantly warm. “First... may I have the honour of this dance?”
When she was a little girl, her father taught her how to dance, but she had not done so since then. Still, it flowed from her effortlessly as she allowed him to take her hand, lead her out onto the moonlit lawn where there is space, and bow as she curtseys. His hand smoothed round to touch her shoulder blade as she rested her hand against his upper arm, and their eyes held together as the music of the waltz surrounded them.
“Alas,” he said quietly, “that there are none to introduce us. In their absence, may I make so bold as to ask your name?”
“Cinderella. My... I am called Cinderella.”
“Cinderella.” He repeated it softly, as if tasting it on his tongue, the word sounding pleasant in his mouth and not an affront. “I have not heard such a name before. It is a pleasure to meet you, Cinderella.”
It had been so many years since there had not been a sting of pain in her chest whenever someone used the name that her stepmother had flung upon her. “And yours, kind sir?”
“Christopher.” The word was so quiet that she almost did not hear it, as if it did not matter. Finally, though, Cinderella gave her fullest, brightest smile for him, and even as the music changed they danced on, uncaring of the passing time or of the calls coming, from towards the castle, for someone obviously much needed inside.
It was only much later that she would even remember that Christopher was the name of the Prince. By then, though, neither of them much cared at all.
Re: The Pleasure of a Dance {2/2}afterandalasiaJanuary 13 2013, 08:23:55 UTC
AHHH I love it! The part where Cinderella is justifying her clothing choices especially -- dawww, I just want to give her a hug. (I always did think that outfit was kinda gaudy-looking, but it still meant so much to Cinderella.)
Love your Prince! It's so nice to see Cinderella/Prince fluffiness!! Ahhh so glad I read this! Thank you for writing it. :)
Re: The Pleasure of a Dance {2/2}afterandalasiaJanuary 16 2013, 11:19:51 UTC
I know, that scene with the dress always broke my heart. I'm such a sucker for pretty dresses, and dear lord I love the silver ballgown, but Cinderella looks so happy when she appears in that pink dress that my heart breaks for her.
Heh, poor Prince, he doesn't really get much character in the original film. Twist In Time is amusing, but he's still a bit generic. I figure, what the hell, let's write a gentleman.
And thank you for reading it, and commenting! It's nice to know people enjoy it~
Heat and colour rushed to her cheeks as, eyes widening, she stared at him. In her hand-me-down dress that the other women had sneered at, with pink cheeks and nose from crying, with skin made golden by the sun and rough with work, and he called her beautiful? Never had such a word been applied to her.
It did not escape her, though, that she was in a secluded place with a strange man. She pushed the crumpled handkerchief back into his hands. “I thank you for your kind words, sir, and for your ’kerchief, but I really must go.”
The faint sound of music drifted through the trees. It had been so long since she had heard any music other than that produced in her own home.
“Please.” His hand brushed against her arm again, and although the night was not cold his touch was pleasantly warm. “First... may I have the honour of this dance?”
When she was a little girl, her father taught her how to dance, but she had not done so since then. Still, it flowed from her effortlessly as she allowed him to take her hand, lead her out onto the moonlit lawn where there is space, and bow as she curtseys. His hand smoothed round to touch her shoulder blade as she rested her hand against his upper arm, and their eyes held together as the music of the waltz surrounded them.
“Alas,” he said quietly, “that there are none to introduce us. In their absence, may I make so bold as to ask your name?”
“Cinderella. My... I am called Cinderella.”
“Cinderella.” He repeated it softly, as if tasting it on his tongue, the word sounding pleasant in his mouth and not an affront. “I have not heard such a name before. It is a pleasure to meet you, Cinderella.”
It had been so many years since there had not been a sting of pain in her chest whenever someone used the name that her stepmother had flung upon her. “And yours, kind sir?”
“Christopher.” The word was so quiet that she almost did not hear it, as if it did not matter. Finally, though, Cinderella gave her fullest, brightest smile for him, and even as the music changed they danced on, uncaring of the passing time or of the calls coming, from towards the castle, for someone obviously much needed inside.
It was only much later that she would even remember that Christopher was the name of the Prince. By then, though, neither of them much cared at all.
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Love your Prince! It's so nice to see Cinderella/Prince fluffiness!! Ahhh so glad I read this! Thank you for writing it. :)
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Heh, poor Prince, he doesn't really get much character in the original film. Twist In Time is amusing, but he's still a bit generic. I figure, what the hell, let's write a gentleman.
And thank you for reading it, and commenting! It's nice to know people enjoy it~
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