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Oh lights go down
Ella couldn't remember feeling so shattered, like pieces of her soul were slowly breaking away and evaporating in the sheer pain she was feeling. She had failed her mother, had broken her sacred promise, had lost all hope and courage and belief in dreams and kindness. Have courage and be kind, that was what she was asked to do, the last thing her mother had asked her to do and she could not do it. The pale pink dress was falling in rags and tears about her shoulders and if Ella had not been so consumed by her grief she might have retreated into the minimal warmth the house offered. But then, her Fairy Godmother had appeared out of thin air and had made a carriage out of a pumpkin - or rather, her strangely orange vegetable friend. Ella had been almost completely lost to the world and the hidden magic that laced the undercurrents of reality, for Fairy Godmothers only openly aided their charges when they required a strong reminder of what magic really was. Magic was goodness, and goodness was kindness. Therefore, you might conclude that Ella was the definition of magic.
In the moment we're lost and found
Butterflies. All manner of different coloured butterflies decorated Ella's gown, their wings ceasing their delicate fluttering as they settled on the sky like fabric. It was a deeper blue than the summer sky, seemingly changing shades at the slightest of movements as she gave a small, gratifying twirl. Papillon, she almost murmured, her thoughts drifting to the little paper butterfly, it's purple wings neatly folded in the small box she kept her treasures in. It prompted her to think for a moment of who she once was, before she was Cinderella, the dirty servant girl or cinder wench, when she was Ella, a beloved daughter. But she had lost that life the day her father died, and she had thought she would never find it again. Her Fairy Godmother, however, gave her hope that maybe she could reclaim a silver of her past life, other than the cherished memories she held of her parents and the keepsakes she hid beneath the floorboards.
"It's so beautiful!" She had breathed, tears stinging her eyes at the rarity of her prize. She was walking in a dream, Ella was sure of it, and very much dreaded waking from it. Her floating feeling suddenly stopped as she reached the palace steps, however, fearful of what she was doing. She was only a girl, not a princess. Would not it have been better to wear her normal clothes? She thought. After all, the young apprentice had already seen her in them and it was not as though she was meeting the Prince. Of course, her mothers dress in it's original form would have been a delicate balance between the servant rags and extravagant adaptation that Ella now wore. At least she was still wearing the dress, she supposed. It was almost like her mother was there, Fairy Godmother had understood it all, how earnestly Ella wished to share her thoughts with her mother concerning her feelings for a certain dashing apprentice and how greatly she wished she might introduce Mister Kit to her father, gain his approval of him, perhaps. The words of Mister Lizard helped her nerves, and she almost stopped to reflect on the accuracy of advise a lizard might provide.
I just wanna be by your side
When the doors had opened out into the ball room, Ella's heart had stopped - mesmerised by the glow of light and the brilliance of the colours that surrounded her. She had not payed much though to how, exactly, she might find Kit - but she didn't need to look very hard. A path way swept across the floor as local nobles and foreign dignitaries alike moved aside for an approaching figure to the newly arrived maiden, and it was indeed her apprentice friend - or the Prince, it really depended on who you asked.
"Mister Kit." She declared at last, relatively amused by the new revelation and felt her heart give a flutter, not unlike the butterflies on her shoes and dress happened to do, at the way Kit looked at her, like he was willing himself to drown in the ethereal glow her entire beauty revealed gave off. Generally a well worded young man, Kit found himself stuttering and stammering in the presence of such a fairy like creature. He had already known that she was kind and good and loving, but to see it was something different entirely.
"Yes, dance." He agreed, grateful for Ella's smiling offering of the word. And the music began to play, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back and she failed to stifle a gasp at the new sensation of physical contact. Kit had danced the same dance countless times, but dancing with Ella was a completely different experience for him as they glided across the dance floor, swaying in perfect synchrony.
If these wings could fly
She felt somewhat stupid for not realising it before, that the charming young stranger she had met in the woods was in fact the Prince, or a prince as he had argued. And she had not been entirely truthful, he believed, and Ella found that being mistaken for a princess was am exquisite feeling - if false. In all honesty, she was an incredibly insignificant country girl standing beside a prince who one day would rule her small country. A country girl that had soared on borrowed wings higher into the clouds than any would have thought her deserving of.
Ella had been almost overwhelmed when she saw the portrait that hung on the wall, of Kit astride a horse, sword in hand. She had felt almost embarrassed, and had blushed profusely, when he had expressed the need for her portrait painted. She even saw one of the silent guards smile at the sentiment. Ella wished the night could last for eternity, but she was just a humble, if beautiful, butterfly attempting to keep up with a strong winged and majestic eagle.
For the rest of our lives
He did not even have the right to his own heart, and Kit knew that, but that could not stop him from falling in love with this unexplainably mysterious princess. He was expected to marry for advantage, for the good of the kingdom, but the Prince wanted only to follow his heart - which was leading directly to the maiden that walked beside him, strolling through the gardens. He trusted her enough to admit his fathers failing health to her, and sympathy welled in her deep brown eyes that conveyed absolute innocence and good intentions, so he decided to show her his secret place.
His mother had shown him the garden when he was a little boy, when she was still young and healthy, and made him promise to keep it hidden and safe from the courtiers and advisors that buzzed about the royal family like flies. It had been her retreat when she was healthy enough to enjoy fresh air, and when she could no longer leave her bed he had taken to tending the secret place for her - even amusing himself by making a swing to play on when he was bored. As the only surviving child of the King, he had not been permitted to play with swords and romp about the place on horseback until he was old enough to be proficient at such sports, and so he had nothing to occupy his time other than dull history lectures and lessons on political tactics and reading. Every day since his mothers health had begun to fail, being unable to stand the way everybody coddled him and seemed to be walking on eggshells, he stole away to the hidden garden to read whatever book that had gained his fancy - and when she died he spent even more time within the ivy covered walls dreaming. He had never shown anyone it, however, staying true to the oath he swore to his mother.
Ella loved it, even the charming notion of such a place existing appealing to her more fanciful side. And Kit knew when he picked up the glass slipper - why not? indeed - and slipped it onto her foot, looking directly into her eyes, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this fantastical woman.
Oh damn these walls
A four letter name, that was all she needed to have uttered, and if she had been asked her name but a moment earlier she would have been able to say it, but the clock had struck midnight. Lizards and pumpkins and things was a rather ambiguous answer, however would have been required to give a far longer explanation if she had been anything but vague and she did not have time on her side. Her beautiful dress would return to a shredded mess, the carriage to a pumpkin, her beloved mice would be reverted back to their tiny forms from the graceful team of chargers they were now and her stepmother and stepsisters would recognise her as Dirty Ella. Mister Lizard would no longer be a footmen, she realised with a sigh, and she would no longer be a princess.
In the moment we're ten feet tall
As Ella dashed up the stairs, hearing the commotion she left in her wake and Kit becoming trapped in the sea of people far behind, and collided with a solid object with a cry of shock and distress. Worse still, it was the King. After a short exchange concerning how marvellous the Royal Son was, a reasonably one sided conversation due to His Majesty being more than a little stunned. Desperately she raced down the outer steps, looking back only to see her glass slipper tinkling down the stonework and the Prince hastily following her, calling out for her to stop and all she wanted to do was listen.
And how you told me after it all
Ella cradled the glass slipper in her hands as she hurried back to the house as the rain began and a carriage approached the Manse. Despite herself, she was laughing. How perfect the night had been - if short - with Kit at her side. Lady Tremaine and her daughters very rarely braved the kitchen, but tonight was an exception as they went directly to Ella to call for tea and biscuits. Mystery princess, vulgar young hussy and other such names circled the room as the stepsisters, with their mothers aid, recounted the events of the evening in a fairly bias light. Quietly to herself, Ella could not help but laugh as they painted a picture of a desperate social climber throwing herself at the future monarch and being chased from the palace by the royal guard. She sincerely hoped no one else believed this tale of events.
We'd remember tonight
The candle was melting into a pool of wax as Ella wrote pages and pages into her book, as if she was speaking to her darling parents again, talking to them about the magic that had happened that night, and the Prince, primarily the Prince, so she might never forget the wonderful story. Not a single detail was left out, until she remembered what her stepmother had said about the ball being a hoax, that her Mister Kit was to marry the Princess Chelina of Zaragosa and decided to ignore that small triviality. Her parents needed be concerned for her, and the little book that kept her dreams and loves within it's pages did not need to be burdened by such sorrows. Ella herself would keep them in her heart, and accept she was just a butterfly that could not hope to keep up with an eagle and could not pretend to be a princess any longer.
For the rest of our lives....