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Marianne had no choice but to watch from the sidelines when Madeline’s life slowly began to fall apart. With her sister adventuring halfway across the world, unreachable and unknowing, Madeline had to suffer the loss of her father completely alone. Well, she hadn’t been entirely alone. Madeline’s step-mother, a strikingly beautiful woman who’s exterior hid her horribly rotten core, and her two step-sisters, who had inherited their mother’s viciousness but none of her looks, had been there. Those three women had also mourned, fake tears wetting their eyes and black clothings as dark as their souls. Madeline’s pain, however, had gone entirely unnoticed. The poor woman had completely retreated into herself - her warmth and kindness slowly diminishing as her step-family’s abuse consumed her. Slowly, they’d taken over, ripped Madeline’s life right out from under her. Madeline, who was supposed to be the heir to the large estate now in her step-mothers hands and had grown up in the house she was now forced to clean and scrub, was reduced to nothing more than a servant. Now, she had to endure the abuse of her mistress out of fear of losing the only home she’d known. Madeline didn’t have the capacity to hate them, so Marianne did it for her.
Most people she knew probably would’ve found it surprising that Marianne had taken such an interest in the life of a mortal woman, but Marianne couldn’t help herself. Madeline was pure and sweet and kind, a warm light amongst a world that was normally cold and dark. Marianne, however, wasn’t any of those things. She was selfish and petty and, on occasion, cruelly protective of things that were hers . Madeline wasn’t hers yet, but Marianne had become horribly possessive of her. So, of course, she took the first chance she could to help Madeline defy them.
“But I don’t have anything to wear…” Madeline said. Her fingers were clutching the tattered remains of the dress she was currently wearing, the same one that had been mercilessly shredded by her step-sisters a couple minutes before and was now completely unsalvageable for the ball she’d wanted to attend. Marianne had found Madeline sobbing quietly in the gardens and hadn’t been able to stand by for a moment longer.
Marianne cocked an eyebrow and studied what remained of the dress. The original dress couldn’t be saved, but Marianne could certainly rework what was left. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
For the first time since Marianne had first found Madeline, there was a spark of wide, innocent hope in her eyes. The sight of it sent a warm thrill through Marianne’s chest and she wondered how anyone could treat her the way her step-family had. Madeline deserved better, even if she didn’t believe she did.
“So, I can still go to the ball?”
“Of course!” Marianne could feel her magic collecting around her fingertips, ready to satisfy her whim as soon as she asked it to. “If you still want to.”
Madeline didn’t answer her, but instead nodded rather shyly. Marianne took it as consent and let her magic wash over Madeline’s tattered dress. As the magic swirled, it began to mend the torn seams and ripped fabric, changing the fabric’s color and texture as it went. The dress’ skirts shortened, the neckline changed, and the ill fit of the waist and bust morphed to accentuate Madeline’s features rather than hide them. Despite her upbringing, Marianne could tell that Madeline wasn’t used to wearing such fine things. Yet, Marianne only wanted to shower her in more decadent things - dresses made from rare materials, jewelry crafted with precious medals and jewels, rich wine and food - and tuck her away where no one else would ever be able to harm her. Instead, though, she had to content herself with watching Madeline gape at the new dress and the intricate way her hair was now done up.
“I- I don’t know what to say…”
The “‘Thank you’ is a good place to start” died in her throat, a quip she certainly would’ve shot off at anyone else, and what came out instead was “You look beautiful.”
A blush flourished on Madeline’s cheeks and she stammered out a ‘thank you’. Despite her demeanor, though, Marianne could see the change in her. She was more comfortable and more confident in herself, and she stood just a little taller with the weight on her shoulders lightened. It brought a smile to Marianne’s face. It felt good to make Madeline feel like she was worth something, to remind her that people saw her and cared for her.
“Now,” Marianne said with a wide smile, “a carriage suited for a princess.” With a wave of her hand, a large, orange pumpkin sitting on the ground nearby began to grow and change. Its orange skin turned to shining metal and its curling vines growing into huge, elaborately carved wheels, “and an entourage to match.”
Marianne waved her hand again before Madeline’s awe wore off enough to predict what was going to happen next. Glittering magic swirled around the nearby barn animals, who suddenly began to seize as the magic began to change their forms. Slowly, and almost comically, the old horse and the fat pig were transformed into respectable looking men - a driver and a footman respectively. Neither would be able to speak or hold any more intelligence than they had before, but it was enough for Madeline to put on a show upon her arrival. The fussy hens pecking at the ground for extra seed also began to change - growing and growing until they were sleek, black horses that could each fit into the bridals of the carriage.
“Oh my…”
Marianne was pulled out of admiring her handiwork, and how pleased it made her that Madeline seemed to approve, when she heard the large grandfather clock inside strike the hour. Her smugness was replaced with a small thrill of panic as she realized they were now on a ticking clock, and turned to Madeline was the warmest smile she could muster.
“Off you go!” she said, guiding her toward the carriage. “No time to waste, after all! My magic only lasts until midnight in this realm, then everything resets.”
“But I -”
“No, no, no, no time for chatter!”
The footman closed the door as soon as Madeline (and her dress) was securely piled into the carriage. Then, the other woman stuck her head out the window.
“But how can I possibly repay you?”
Marianne didn’t say the first thing that came to mind, a fact Alice would hopefully be proud of her for. “Just have a good time, Madeline, dear. You deserve it.”
The other woman looked like she was going to protest, but, before she could, the driver cracked the whip and the horses pulled the carriage forward. Marianne watched it disappear with a weird mixture of happiness and bitterness swirling in her chest. Happiness, of course, because Madeline was happy, but bitterness because the wonderful night she was about to have didn’t have anything to do with her. It was selfish, she knew, but if she was quick enough, perhaps she could make Madeline’s night one she would never truly forget.
With a smile, one that was just a tad bit sharper than the one she’d given Madeline, Marianne set off towards the palace, determined to make a grand impression of her own.