Chapter Text
Once upon a time…
(Okay, no this story has been written too many times.)
More than once upon a time…
(I’ve already used that! Okay fine, I’ll get straight to the point.)
Lance is a man.
He is biologically born as a man, with manly muscles (so he’s on the spindly side, who cares!) and handsome facial hair (so it hasn’t grown yet. But it’s bound to! One of these days!) He was as adept with the sword as he was with needlework. Besides, it cost less for him to darn his own clothes. And he could design it however he wanted. With a charming persona and a voice of angels to boot, Lance thought he had collected enough good deeds to last a lifetime of comfort.
So what did he do in his life that fate decided to throw him a wig and a dress and call it a day?
Because Lance was now a princess.
…
It all started with a song.
T’was my folly in that month of May
when I vowed to thee that I would stay
Lance strummed the strings of his lute, his voice floating over the kingdom square. People flocked around him and his lips quirked into a smirk. He sent a wink to the ladies at the side, eliciting a few shrill screams.
But ask me not why swans in winter fly
for they can no more bide with thee than I
He had always been wandering, never settling on one town. People in the country of Gaia knew of Lance. They knew of the Blue Bard with his trusty lute who sang songs of longing and sorrow.
Though I wandered once I wish to stay
Save thy tears for the morrow
And if it pleases thee, send me away
His eyes fell on the castle on the hill and wondered how it felt to be pampered and eat three square meals a day. Parties in the grand ballroom, concerts in private salons, and picnics in wide palace gardens—a life of leisure and comfort.
(If he knew what was coming, he would’ve taken those thoughts back and run for the mountains far far away.)
I would spare thee any sorrow
Save thy tears for another day
As his song ended, so did his can of coins fill up.
Lance grinned, Forget about royal life. He was totally fine sleeping in barns and having his bread with butter and a jug of ale.
A golden coin amidst the pile of bronze dropped with a sound like fate’s laughter.
“That was beautiful.” A warm and pleasant voice spoke overhead.
Lance pulled out his charming smile and said smoothly, “All the more to bring the ladies to the court—” He looked up and froze. “—yard.”
It was like looking in front of the mirror.
She looked exactly like him. If one ignored the long silver hair and the dress, they could pass off as twins. Lance had heard tales of doppelgängers and changelings and he was immediately suspicious of the lady’s smile.
“Blue Bard Lance, how would you like a trade?”
So here he was, sitting in a cramped carriage stuffed in a puffy dress with one too many petticoats and an itchy silver wig that he brushed away from his face in irritation every five seconds.
The past minutes had been a blur where the mysterious lady dragged him in one of the shady alleyways, waved her hands in some weird mumbo jumbo gestures with glitters and sparkles all around them, and the next thing he knew, she was wearing his clothes and took off without so much as a kiss and an explanation.
Also, it turned out that she was a princess. And not just any princess—she was Princess Allura of Altea and she lived in the castle on the hill that overlooked the kingdom.
He really should have taken the left to the kingdom of Mamora when he came upon the fork on the road.
The palace gates loomed overhead and Lance winced as it slammed shut behind him. There was no going back. If anybody found out that he wasn’t really Princess Allura, his head would sing a high C whilst rolling down the hill.
“Princess Allura! Princess Allura, oh thank the heavens you’re safe!”
Lance quickly sidestepped and winced as a man with the bright orange mustache crashed into the carriage. Fortunately, the man appeared to be unharmed as he sprung up with not a wrinkle or dust on his shirt. The man began admonishing him. “Princess Allura, how could you leave the palace unattended without an escort?”
What should I say, Lance thought in panic. He cleared his throat and spoke in falsetto, “I just wanted to get some fresh air.”
The man and Lance both froze. Lance’s voice was clearly female and went an octave too high. Purple eyes scrutinized Lance, and he swallowed nervously. “Have you come down with a cold, your highness?”
“Yes,” Lance squeaked. He faked a cough. “It was quite chilly outside. I should stop talking and rest.”
It seemed to do the trick because the man declared, “Don’t fret! I, Coran Hieronymous Wimbleton Smythe, know of a remedy that has been passed down the Smythe family for generations. It’ll cure your cold as quick as a Unilu can weasel all your money, and allow you to get back to your duties right away!”
And with that, Coran clapped his hands and two maids quickly escorted Lance to the east wing of the palace.
Allura’s bedroom was a wide circular suite with floor-to-ceiling windows that were covered behind pink velvet curtains. A gigantic chandelier hung in the center of the room, sending sparkles against soft pink walls. On one end of the room was a queen-sized bed that Lance quickly sank into with a satisfied sigh. It smelled of juniberry flowers and felt as soft as a feather.
“Your highness, your bath is ready,” said one of the maids. She was standing beside a pair of gilded doors that Lance reckoned led to the bathroom. Reluctantly leaving the bed, he got up with some difficulty and hiked up his skirts, fearing that he’d trip on them as he did on the stairs.
Pushing the double doors, he was swept away by the number of bubbles flowing off a large bathtub and floating around the room. The room was laid with pink marble on the floor and the walls, with another giant chandelier hanging overhead. On one side was a golden folding screen. His eyes fell on the glass bottles that lay in a neat row on a table counter and couldn’t stop his gasp of excitement.
There was a golden bottle of Pain taketh Away, and a pink hair tonic of Fluff Forever, along with an array of Bertie Bott’s Bath and Body Scents for the Soul.
He was so ready for his bath! But before Lance could take off the dress, he remembered he had company.
He looked at his maidservant and said meekly, “I would like to have some privacy if you please.”
“But your highness, I’m always here to help you in taking off your dresses and assisting you in your bath,” the maid said in surprise and nervousness.
“It’s fine! I know how to dress myself,” Lance said quickly as he clapped his hands over the shoulders of the maid and gently steered her out of the bathroom. “Besides, it would make me happy if you were to pick my softest nightgown for me.”
The maid, unable to protest, said in confusion, “If your highness so wishes.”
“Yes, I so wishes,” Lance said quickly and then swiftly slammed the door and locked it.
With a huge sigh, he sank down on the floor, with legs splayed out. He toed off the tight shoes with a groan of relief. It had been barely two hours but the heels were killing him. He wasn’t even sure if his toes were alive at this point.
The wide mirror on the corner of the room drew his curiosity and Lance quickly padded towards it, his skirts bunched in his fists. Lance stood in front of it.
Reflected on the mirror was Princess Allura with long silver hair and wearing a dress.
It felt weird, seeing someone else in front of a mirror, mimicking everything that one did. Lance raised his left hand and the mirror image did too. He whirled around and so did the figure in the mirror, with skirts swishing around the ankles. He pinched his cheek and yelped. So it wasn’t a dream.
Lance sighed and he scratched his head. It must’ve done something magical because the wig fell on his hands and he suddenly couldn’t breathe—caught tight in the corset with his male body and wide shoulders ripping the seams of the dress.
“AHA!” Coran burst out from behind a folding screen.
Lance let out a girlish shriek which turned into a wheezing cough.
Coran crossed the room and swiftly pulled Lance into a deadlock. He demanded, “Where is Princess Allura? Why have you switched places with her?”
Lance struggled to pull away, but Coran tightened his grip. “Well? Speak, boy!”
“Can’t—breathe!” Lance managed to squeak out. Orange bushy brows rose in realization, and Coran quickly let him go. Lance fell on the ground, gasping for air. Once he deemed enough oxygen had gone back to his brain, he managed to say, “She wanted to trade. She said she’d go out for tonight and be back when morning comes.”
Coran dragged his hands down the sides of his face. “Princess Allura, why have you gone and done this in the busiest time of the year! One wrong move can send the whole alliance into jeopardy!”
Lance balked. “Why? What’s happening?”
“It’s the social season.”
Lance drew a blank and shook his head.
“It’s the time when young royals and nobles gather together to find potential partners who will someday rule the kingdoms.”
And then it dawned on him. “Allura’s having an arranged marriage?!”
The tight dress sent him doubling over. Just then, another thought came in his head. “I’m getting married?!—help me out of this dress, I’m suffocating.”
Taking the dress off was torture, and it took a fully grown man to wrestle Lance out of it.
“I—” huff— “—am—” grunt— “—never—” puff— “—wearing this—” snap— “—again!”
The release of the corset was the greatest feeling Lance had ever experienced in his life. In disgust, he tossed the offending article with the dress piled on the floor. He hung the wig on the side of the mirror and dragged his hand over his real hair in relief.
“How did you know I wasn’t the real princess?” Lance asked as he stretched out the kinks from the dress and sank into the hot bath. He melted at the sensation of clean, soapy water over his skin.
Coran’s mustache quirked into a smile and he said proudly, “I’m the one who taught her that illusion spell. I’m bound to see through any and every illusion of hers. As her advisor, I overlook all of her magic lessons and studies.”
“You should reprimand her from using that spell on random strangers!” Lance chided as he began washing his hair. “She came up to me and just said “would you like a trade?” and without even waiting for my answer, boom! We’ve switched places!”
Coran grabbed a bucket of fresh water and poured it over Lance’s head. “I believe Princess Allura chose you for a reason. She wouldn’t have approached you if she hadn’t had something in mind.”
“Well, she better not wreck my Blue!” Lance blinked away water droplets from his lashes. “Princess or not, there’s no way she can replace my lute!”
“Oh she will be very careful with it, I’m sure,” Coran said. He didn’t sound so sure.
Lance watched him with a calculated gaze. “You seem to accept this situation pretty quickly. Aren’t you going to go and search for her?”
The advisor set down the bucket and faced Lance. He said, “If the people are alerted to the fact that Princess Allura is missing and that someone else is in her place, there would be chaos. The kingdom would be put into disarray.”
“Then what’s stopping you from going out there and dragging her back in here?”
Coran sighed in exasperation. “If the princess does not want to be found, not even I can find her. Only she can come back of her own volition.”
Lance sank down in the water with a furrowed brow. So there was no escaping this royal life. He ran his hand over the surface, watching the bubbles pop and glitters in the water moving around in lazy circles.
As Coran neatly folded the dress and gently brushed the hair of the wig, Coran said with a sigh, “As much as it pains me, it seems like we’ll have to go with you.”
“Well, at least I have the looks for it.”
Coran gave him an unimpressed look.
“Hey, have some faith in me,” Lance said with a wave of his hand, sending bubbles floating in the air, feigning confidence. “I totally got this.”