Ashes; part ii
jongkey | cinderella!au | angst | pg | part ii/?
a/n: i may or may not have been watching different versions of cinderella for an entire week... most definitely not! >.<'
It was ten years to the date from when Kibum’s mother died that the boy got a new family.
There was no wedding or announcement, just the arrival of an exquisite rental carriage, three ridiculous women, and a stack of signed papers in Kibum’s father’s hand, legalizing the whole ordeal.
Kibum’s… step-mother -the word itself tasted bitter on his tongue -was a party animal from the very beginning. She was wild and artistic, much like his mother, but so, so different at the same time. This woman’s rambunctious side was filled with alcohol, gambling, and spending every cent she won on new things for herself and her daughters -Drisella and Anastasia. She was interested in the arts, but more modern and stylish than the traditional look of, well, everything surrounding her. Kibum would have found those traits quite charming, if it wasn’t stressing his father out.
His poor father dealt not only with Lady Tremaine, but her daughters were aggravating every soul in the house. They constantly begged for more, more, more -wanting grander dishes to eat, bigger and more colorful dresses, they wanted jewels and gold and silver -it was too much for anyone to handle. Kibum was beginning to worry for his father’s health. Mr. Kim was always quite healthy, but lately, he stops every so often to rub his temples, or massage the muscles over his chest.
On a serene summer’s night, Kibum forced his father to take a seat by the fireplace in his bedroom, he fed him some sweets and tea, and read a full novel to him. His father smiled tiredly, his eyes squinting in the low light and his forehead showing prominent wrinkles. The man watched his son read, his smile growing wider and wider as with each facial feature he gazed at, he saw more and more of his wife. Even the different tones in Kibum’s voice as he read each character’s dialogue was nearly identical to the way she had done it. Although he was smiling, he felt a pinch in his heart.
“You are so much like your mother,” he said, interrupting Kibum.
“What? Really? You really think so?” The young man looked at his father, wondering what on earth could have brought such a comment to mind. He was only reading a book, after all.
“Of course. You’re almost identical,” he said, just a bit louder and he stroked the side of Kibum’s cheek. “You both have the same high pitched voice when you get excited, and such low tones when you want to be serious. And, of course, you have her gorgeous golden hair.”
Kibum frowned. “But I don’t want to be the exact same as mother.”
“Why not?”
“Only mother can be herself. No one can replace her, and I don’t want anyone to even try. Only one woman like her has walked this earth, and there won’t be anyone like her again. It’s impossible.”
“You’re absolutely right.” He said, smiling as his heart hurt again, but in a better, happier way. Something akin to nostalgia. “How did I get such a wise son? And you’re only seventeen!”
“I’m almost eighteen, father!”
“That’s right, how could I have forgotten?”
Kibum giggled, shoving his father’s shoulder lightly, and continued to read. From their cozy corner near the fireplace, they didn’t see the face that darkened as she left the room, closing the door behind her soundlessly.
The next morning, Kibum’s father was scrambling to get packed and leave the estate before midday, as he had just received notice that he was needed in London.
Kibum held his rabbit close to his chest, afraid that all the hustle and bustle would mean that the poor fluffy bunny would be stepped on or kicked.
The birds were chirping out their morning song, flying above the family’s heads as if dancing, coaxing Kibum to join them in their morning routine -but he didn’t feel like joining them today. His father was leaving him again, and not just leaving him alone like all the other times, but with three women that Kibum was certain were going to be the death of him. He will admit -he’s a little suspicious of Lady Tremaine’s motives in marrying his father, but it seems as if she merely wants to provide for her daughters by marrying into money and a new home.
Mr. Kim put the last suitcase into the carriage before turning around and heading back into the house. He grabbed his son and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you, Kibummie.”
“I’ll miss you too, father.” Kibum returned the hug with all his strength.
The man smiled, looking at Kibum with shining eyes. “Is there anything you want me to get you?” He asked, tuning out Drisella and Anastasia’s requests for lace and parasols.
“I… I want a branch. But not just any branch, father. I want the first branch your shoulder brushes against. Snap a small twig from it and bring it back to me.” The blond looked into his father’s eyes, which were just as wet as his, and silently begged him not to go. He didn’t want his father to leave again. Not now, not ever.
“A branch? Is that truly what you want?”
“No. But you will be thinking of me every time you look at that branch, won’t you?”
“Of course, Kibummie. But what do you want, besides the branch?”
“For you to come home safely, and soon. I love you, father,” he said, gulping back a sob.
“I love you too, Kibummie. I have to go now, be a good boy to your step-mother, promise? Make her feel welcome and comforted.” Mr. Kim walked back outside to the carriage, with Kibum tailing him, whining softly like a puppy.
“Yes, father, I will. I promise.”
“Good… Goodbye, my little Kibummie. Have fun with the girls!” He called, hopping in and letting the driver know it was time to leave.
There were a few more “I love you!” ‘s called back and forth between father and son, while the three women stood off on the sidelines and waited until the man’s carriage was out of sight before going back inside, speaking in more or less hushed tones.
As they watched Kibum run off towards the gate to watch his father’s carriage until it was no longer visible, they smirked at each other, the two sisters giggling behind their glove-covered hands.
It was two days since Mr. Kim had left, and although the estate had a constant presence of six other people, Kibum felt like he only had Jinki. If he didn’t have the rabbit in his arms, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He was even lonelier than before -when the step-mother and step-sisters hadn’t yet arrived -how was that even possible? Perhaps it was the fact that those three women went out of their way to set Kibum apart from the rest of the estate.
They made sure that the servants were too busy to sit and chat with Kibum, like they were used to. Drisella once locked the boy outside for hours, and no one was around to let him in. Lady Tremaine wouldn’t let Kibum read, and that was his only escape from the rainy days that were quickly coming up.
Kibum prayed that this wouldn’t continue.
On the third day, Drisella and Anastasia were in the main hallway, arguing over something absurd.
“You take up so much space in that tiny room!” Drisella yelled, playing tug-of-war with a brightly colored dress with her sister.
“No I don’t! You’re the one who uses up two dressers! I only have a wardrobe!” Anastasia said, yanking the dress closer to her.
“Those dressers are tiny and in a corner! Your wardrobe takes up half the room! Where am I supposed to keep all of my things?! How am I supposed to sleep with your dresses ending up on my bed?!”
“Girls, girls, girls! Enough!” Their mother screeched, looking at them with fire in her eyes. “What brought all of this on?” She asked, as if they didn’t argue like that every day.
“Momma, I don’t want to share a room with Anastasia anymore!”
“Kick Drisella out of my room!”
Lady Tremaine sighed, fiddling with the upper parts of her skirt.
Kibum looked between the three, and knowing that this argument would only lead to headaches, he said, “My room is the second largest. Maybe they can share mine instead? I can move to their roo-“
“Oh, really Kibum? That is a fantastic idea! Girls, start moving your things!”
“Should I move to their room, then?”
“Hm? Oh, no. You shouldn’t. That room is absolutely tiny. It’s better off as a closet.”
“But we don’t have any more rooms.”
“We do. There’s the attic. And, there’s already furniture up there, so you won’t have to move a mattress up those rickety stairs. I’ll have someone help you move all of your… things to the attic.”
“Oh… thank you,” Kibum smiled, the corners of his eyes wet and threatening to spill tears. Why was she so mean to him? He only ever tried his best to keep his promise with his father, but Lady Tremaine was making that task quite difficult. Still, he did as he was told. He -along with Gwen, the chef -moved his things up the stairs and into the attic, carrying the chests of trinkets and clothes.
When everything that was his was out of his old room, he snuck into his parents’ room while his step-mother was helping her daughters set up the new ‘closet.’ He grabbed the large, leather chest in the very corner of the room, and heaved with all his might until he was alone on the staircase. It was a difficult journey up the wooden stairs, but he managed. He wouldn’t leave this chest with that woman. And, when his father comes back, he’ll be glad to know it’s safe with Kibum, and not thrown out when Lady Tremaine plans on redecorating.
He wiped his hands on his trousers to free them of sweat, and looked around his new room.
Everything was dusty, and old, but mostly dusty. There was dust particles floating in the sunlight that streamed through the large windows, and while watching them dance in the light, he couldn’t help that believe that he could make this work.
He moved the furniture around, so it somewhat resembled a decent room, and he was happy to know that his old armoire was up here, along with his other childhood belongings. He had a decent daybed, and although the mattress was lumpy, it would be fine to sleep in. Out of the trunk he grabbed a large quilt, one that his mother had made, and laid it on the bed. Kibum smiled as he saw the familiar print, of little rabbits and fawns prancing amongst daises.
He placed a small basket near the corner of his bed and placed Jinki in it. While the bunny flopped onto his side, with his nose twitching, Kibum looked out the window, and out to the castle. He remembered those days when all he wanted was to become a prince, with his mothe and father as the fair and kind rulers of the kingdom. He smiled to himself, hope growing in chest. He should continue to dream wonderful things like that, shouldn't he?
With those thoughts in mind, things seemed brighter already.
Soon enough, it had been two and a half months since his father departed, and two weeks since his last letter. Kibum was worried about his father. Did his health decline? Was he robbed? Was it something serious, or was he simply too busy to write long letters to his son?
Lady Tremaine seemed worried as well, but she kept muttering things like, “What will we do without his pay?” and, “We could be in financial ruin!”
Kibum had to laugh at her worries, since if there was any reason for being in debt, it was because the new additions to the house were expensive, and everything original from Kibum’s past was thought of as useless, old, and worthless. Kibum had managed to salvage as much of his mother’s things as he could, but if Lady Tremaine saw something that looked like it could bring in a pretty penny, she sold it to pay for her daughter’s new clothes.
The boy was just about to scavenge through his mother’s sewing room when he heard a knock at the door. Kibum smiled, getting up from his seated position quickly. He ran to the door and paused to take a deep breath, his smile stretching even wider.
“Father! I missed you- … Dale?” Kibum was startled. He was expecting his father at the door, not Dale. Dale was supposed to be with
his father, so where was he? Kibum looked over the man’s shoulder, and saw only an empty carriage. He looked back at Dale, a million questions running through his head. But they all flew away when he saw a wilted branch in his hands.
“I’m so sorry, Master Kibum.”
a/n: i may or may not have been watching different versions of cinderella for an entire week... most definitely not! >.<'
It was ten years to the date from when Kibum’s mother died that the boy got a new family.
There was no wedding or announcement, just the arrival of an exquisite rental carriage, three ridiculous women, and a stack of signed papers in Kibum’s father’s hand, legalizing the whole ordeal.
Kibum’s… step-mother -the word itself tasted bitter on his tongue -was a party animal from the very beginning. She was wild and artistic, much like his mother, but so, so different at the same time. This woman’s rambunctious side was filled with alcohol, gambling, and spending every cent she won on new things for herself and her daughters -Drisella and Anastasia. She was interested in the arts, but more modern and stylish than the traditional look of, well, everything surrounding her. Kibum would have found those traits quite charming, if it wasn’t stressing his father out.
His poor father dealt not only with Lady Tremaine, but her daughters were aggravating every soul in the house. They constantly begged for more, more, more -wanting grander dishes to eat, bigger and more colorful dresses, they wanted jewels and gold and silver -it was too much for anyone to handle. Kibum was beginning to worry for his father’s health. Mr. Kim was always quite healthy, but lately, he stops every so often to rub his temples, or massage the muscles over his chest.
On a serene summer’s night, Kibum forced his father to take a seat by the fireplace in his bedroom, he fed him some sweets and tea, and read a full novel to him. His father smiled tiredly, his eyes squinting in the low light and his forehead showing prominent wrinkles. The man watched his son read, his smile growing wider and wider as with each facial feature he gazed at, he saw more and more of his wife. Even the different tones in Kibum’s voice as he read each character’s dialogue was nearly identical to the way she had done it. Although he was smiling, he felt a pinch in his heart.
“You are so much like your mother,” he said, interrupting Kibum.
“What? Really? You really think so?” The young man looked at his father, wondering what on earth could have brought such a comment to mind. He was only reading a book, after all.
“Of course. You’re almost identical,” he said, just a bit louder and he stroked the side of Kibum’s cheek. “You both have the same high pitched voice when you get excited, and such low tones when you want to be serious. And, of course, you have her gorgeous golden hair.”
Kibum frowned. “But I don’t want to be the exact same as mother.”
“Why not?”
“Only mother can be herself. No one can replace her, and I don’t want anyone to even try. Only one woman like her has walked this earth, and there won’t be anyone like her again. It’s impossible.”
“You’re absolutely right.” He said, smiling as his heart hurt again, but in a better, happier way. Something akin to nostalgia. “How did I get such a wise son? And you’re only seventeen!”
“I’m almost eighteen, father!”
“That’s right, how could I have forgotten?”
Kibum giggled, shoving his father’s shoulder lightly, and continued to read. From their cozy corner near the fireplace, they didn’t see the face that darkened as she left the room, closing the door behind her soundlessly.
The next morning, Kibum’s father was scrambling to get packed and leave the estate before midday, as he had just received notice that he was needed in London.
Kibum held his rabbit close to his chest, afraid that all the hustle and bustle would mean that the poor fluffy bunny would be stepped on or kicked.
The birds were chirping out their morning song, flying above the family’s heads as if dancing, coaxing Kibum to join them in their morning routine -but he didn’t feel like joining them today. His father was leaving him again, and not just leaving him alone like all the other times, but with three women that Kibum was certain were going to be the death of him. He will admit -he’s a little suspicious of Lady Tremaine’s motives in marrying his father, but it seems as if she merely wants to provide for her daughters by marrying into money and a new home.
Mr. Kim put the last suitcase into the carriage before turning around and heading back into the house. He grabbed his son and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you, Kibummie.”
“I’ll miss you too, father.” Kibum returned the hug with all his strength.
The man smiled, looking at Kibum with shining eyes. “Is there anything you want me to get you?” He asked, tuning out Drisella and Anastasia’s requests for lace and parasols.
“I… I want a branch. But not just any branch, father. I want the first branch your shoulder brushes against. Snap a small twig from it and bring it back to me.” The blond looked into his father’s eyes, which were just as wet as his, and silently begged him not to go. He didn’t want his father to leave again. Not now, not ever.
“A branch? Is that truly what you want?”
“No. But you will be thinking of me every time you look at that branch, won’t you?”
“Of course, Kibummie. But what do you want, besides the branch?”
“For you to come home safely, and soon. I love you, father,” he said, gulping back a sob.
“I love you too, Kibummie. I have to go now, be a good boy to your step-mother, promise? Make her feel welcome and comforted.” Mr. Kim walked back outside to the carriage, with Kibum tailing him, whining softly like a puppy.
“Yes, father, I will. I promise.”
“Good… Goodbye, my little Kibummie. Have fun with the girls!” He called, hopping in and letting the driver know it was time to leave.
There were a few more “I love you!” ‘s called back and forth between father and son, while the three women stood off on the sidelines and waited until the man’s carriage was out of sight before going back inside, speaking in more or less hushed tones.
As they watched Kibum run off towards the gate to watch his father’s carriage until it was no longer visible, they smirked at each other, the two sisters giggling behind their glove-covered hands.
It was two days since Mr. Kim had left, and although the estate had a constant presence of six other people, Kibum felt like he only had Jinki. If he didn’t have the rabbit in his arms, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He was even lonelier than before -when the step-mother and step-sisters hadn’t yet arrived -how was that even possible? Perhaps it was the fact that those three women went out of their way to set Kibum apart from the rest of the estate.
They made sure that the servants were too busy to sit and chat with Kibum, like they were used to. Drisella once locked the boy outside for hours, and no one was around to let him in. Lady Tremaine wouldn’t let Kibum read, and that was his only escape from the rainy days that were quickly coming up.
Kibum prayed that this wouldn’t continue.
On the third day, Drisella and Anastasia were in the main hallway, arguing over something absurd.
“You take up so much space in that tiny room!” Drisella yelled, playing tug-of-war with a brightly colored dress with her sister.
“No I don’t! You’re the one who uses up two dressers! I only have a wardrobe!” Anastasia said, yanking the dress closer to her.
“Those dressers are tiny and in a corner! Your wardrobe takes up half the room! Where am I supposed to keep all of my things?! How am I supposed to sleep with your dresses ending up on my bed?!”
“Girls, girls, girls! Enough!” Their mother screeched, looking at them with fire in her eyes. “What brought all of this on?” She asked, as if they didn’t argue like that every day.
“Momma, I don’t want to share a room with Anastasia anymore!”
“Kick Drisella out of my room!”
Lady Tremaine sighed, fiddling with the upper parts of her skirt.
Kibum looked between the three, and knowing that this argument would only lead to headaches, he said, “My room is the second largest. Maybe they can share mine instead? I can move to their roo-“
“Oh, really Kibum? That is a fantastic idea! Girls, start moving your things!”
“Should I move to their room, then?”
“Hm? Oh, no. You shouldn’t. That room is absolutely tiny. It’s better off as a closet.”
“But we don’t have any more rooms.”
“We do. There’s the attic. And, there’s already furniture up there, so you won’t have to move a mattress up those rickety stairs. I’ll have someone help you move all of your… things to the attic.”
“Oh… thank you,” Kibum smiled, the corners of his eyes wet and threatening to spill tears. Why was she so mean to him? He only ever tried his best to keep his promise with his father, but Lady Tremaine was making that task quite difficult. Still, he did as he was told. He -along with Gwen, the chef -moved his things up the stairs and into the attic, carrying the chests of trinkets and clothes.
When everything that was his was out of his old room, he snuck into his parents’ room while his step-mother was helping her daughters set up the new ‘closet.’ He grabbed the large, leather chest in the very corner of the room, and heaved with all his might until he was alone on the staircase. It was a difficult journey up the wooden stairs, but he managed. He wouldn’t leave this chest with that woman. And, when his father comes back, he’ll be glad to know it’s safe with Kibum, and not thrown out when Lady Tremaine plans on redecorating.
He wiped his hands on his trousers to free them of sweat, and looked around his new room.
Everything was dusty, and old, but mostly dusty. There was dust particles floating in the sunlight that streamed through the large windows, and while watching them dance in the light, he couldn’t help that believe that he could make this work.
He moved the furniture around, so it somewhat resembled a decent room, and he was happy to know that his old armoire was up here, along with his other childhood belongings. He had a decent daybed, and although the mattress was lumpy, it would be fine to sleep in. Out of the trunk he grabbed a large quilt, one that his mother had made, and laid it on the bed. Kibum smiled as he saw the familiar print, of little rabbits and fawns prancing amongst daises.
He placed a small basket near the corner of his bed and placed Jinki in it. While the bunny flopped onto his side, with his nose twitching, Kibum looked out the window, and out to the castle. He remembered those days when all he wanted was to become a prince, with his mothe and father as the fair and kind rulers of the kingdom. He smiled to himself, hope growing in chest. He should continue to dream wonderful things like that, shouldn't he?
With those thoughts in mind, things seemed brighter already.
Soon enough, it had been two and a half months since his father departed, and two weeks since his last letter. Kibum was worried about his father. Did his health decline? Was he robbed? Was it something serious, or was he simply too busy to write long letters to his son?
Lady Tremaine seemed worried as well, but she kept muttering things like, “What will we do without his pay?” and, “We could be in financial ruin!”
Kibum had to laugh at her worries, since if there was any reason for being in debt, it was because the new additions to the house were expensive, and everything original from Kibum’s past was thought of as useless, old, and worthless. Kibum had managed to salvage as much of his mother’s things as he could, but if Lady Tremaine saw something that looked like it could bring in a pretty penny, she sold it to pay for her daughter’s new clothes.
The boy was just about to scavenge through his mother’s sewing room when he heard a knock at the door. Kibum smiled, getting up from his seated position quickly. He ran to the door and paused to take a deep breath, his smile stretching even wider.
“Father! I missed you- … Dale?” Kibum was startled. He was expecting his father at the door, not Dale. Dale was supposed to be with
his father, so where was he? Kibum looked over the man’s shoulder, and saw only an empty carriage. He looked back at Dale, a million questions running through his head. But they all flew away when he saw a wilted branch in his hands.
“I’m so sorry, Master Kibum.”