Chapter Text
Princess of Cinders, phoenix who rises from the ashes and shields countless under her wings.
It becomes quite apparent very quickly why one does not mess with time.
Chloe Charming had never planned on doing so; she’d been roped into it by a girl as fierce as the color of her hair, on a mission to stop a mother and save a mother, respectively. The Queen of Hearts coup was not an ideal way to start Chloe’s first year at Auradon Prep. She’s glad it's been undone, thankful Cinderella is alive and everyone is unharmed. The goal, of course, lied solely in Bridget’s change of heart (pun unintended.) A queen no longer a tyrant, loving and benevolent; Chloe and Red- witty, wonderful, wild Red- literally went back in time and rewrote history. Potential side effects were to be expected.
There was enormous surprise, however, in finding out that her own mother had changed too.
“Chloe,” Cinderella begins. Birds chirp outside and the rising sun shines brightly into the dining room. “Don’t slouch, dear. I hope you don’t sit like that in your lessons.”
She corrects her posture quietly and stares out the window. It doesn’t matter how early in the morning it is. A princess must always be alert. She knows this lesson, having learned it around age six. Admittedly, it hadn’t been very easy to incorporate. In her childhood…or at least, her childhood as it originally was, she remembers her tutors informing Cinderella that her daughter failed in upholding this particular rule.
“She’s a child,” her mother said, laughing politely. “I can’t imagine that she’d sit so ram-rod after just waking up.”
The memory is different now. Here, Cinderella chastised Chloe for her failure, reminding her the importance of following expectations and rules and commands. Two polar-opposite reactions, each fighting in her brain for dominance. Which one can she consider true?
This is, unfortunately, a frequent question. A conundrum, following her around since Wonderland's Royal Vault welcomed its newest possession.
“You’re prepared for the week?” her father asks. He spears a bit of pancake with his fork.
Auradon Prep is a boarding school, but every so often, Cinderella and King Charming will request Chloe come stay with them for a weekend. Chloe is technically supposed to offer first. She discovered this after her mother called and inquired why she hadn’t visited home in a while. The custom didn’t exist in the original timeline, so she was confused, which had confused Cinderella in turn, and it left Chloe apologizing and promising she’d visit for the next three weekends to make it up. There are many interesting things she’s learned over the last four months.
“Mhm!” she nods, turning her gaze toward King Charming. Their family meals- minus Chad, whose University is keeping him fully occupied- are the only time Chloe has both her parents’ attention for more than five minutes. In this new world, they’re far busier; Cinderella and the Queen of Hearts’ friendship serves as a strong political alliance that has placed the former in the center of Auradon’s key politics, a bridge connecting Wonderland to the rest of Auradon. There is much more of a spotlight on Chloe’s mother, and thus the same applies to Chloe herself.
Sometimes she wants to crack open Cinderella's mind like a chestnut and see what exactly Bridget staying nice did to alter her so drastically. She’s not mean. She isn’t cruel, still the caring mother Chloe is used to. She’s just…different. Her crown weighs heavier. Adjusting to this version of the queen has been an unexpected curve ball.
“Red and I are thinking of starting a movie night thing!” Chloe says, slightly prattling on. “Pjs, popcorns- the works. We have to pick something for this week to really start us off.”
Cinderella smiles. “I’m glad you and Red remain such good friends after all these years.”
Another thing. Cinderella and Bridget never had their falling out. In consequence, they raised their daughters together side by side, playmates as soon as they could walk. Maybe even before that. Chloe now has memories of visiting Wonderland and playing in the gardens with Red; having a sleepover and staying up far too late; Red kicking a bully of hers in the shins during secondary school. They’ve returned to her consciousness slowly over the weeks. Fuzzy. Strange. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. It’s like she’s been plopped into the body of a completely foreign girl with her own sixteen years of experience, and is being fed snapshots of her life. Based on these memories, she knows Red, in this timeline, was different from the girl now occupying her body.
“It’s so frustrating,” Red had complained in their dorm at Auradon Prep. “My entire childhood is different! And yeah, I was a princess before, but here, I’m a princess.”
A bitter part of Chloe had arisen then, hearing that last bit. Something she couldn’t name. It faded fast and she hopes it doesn’t return.
So Red is still the same person who threatened her with the Jabberwocky upon meeting. Their friendship built past that moment remains. Only, there are memories returning with Red that Chloe never actually experienced, piecing together the friendship their bodies built as children in this new timeline. Long story short: it’s a lot to handle.
“Just make sure you remember your schedule,” Cinderella reminds. The clear voice snaps Chloe out of her thoughts and back into her seat at her family’s castle. “It’s vital you continue to stick to it.”
The schedule is more of a concept than a physical object. A set of rules to follow through daily life, as her kingdom’s prodigious princess. She wakes up early to study. She never loses a fencing match. She does not, under any circumstances, snap or bite back to unfriendly peers. A princess is better than that. Again, things not entirely novel. It’s that there’s a pressure underlying them, a consequence should she fail. Disappointment. Slander from Auradon's other royalty. They want to see Cinderella’s perfect daughter falter.
Breakfast ends without much fanfare. It’s Sunday, so she has to pack up her suitcase and board the carriage within the hour. Cinderella and King Charming will see her off. Perhaps a newsman is waiting outside the gates in an attempt to snap a picture of the family together. With High King Ben and Queen Mal far away, traveling distant lands to build new relationships for the United States of Auradon, attention has turned toward the country’s second most beloved royalty…the Charmings. Everyone loves reporting on the picturesque trio; their faces are often on the covers of daily papers and articles.
“The press demands our best foot forward,” Cinderella had said mere weeks ago, in the minutes before they were to make an appearance at Auradon’s fall festival. This was another public event added to Chloe’s increasingly filling calendar. She’d attended before the pocketwatch, but she’d been able to frolic amongst the other attendees, no carefully curated speech required. Cinderella’s place in Auradon’s Council hadn’t called for it.
Like planned, she meets her mother and father outside of the castle, where an opulently designed carriage stands proud. Guards rush to gather her suitcases. She thanks them and stands by her parents.
“Thanks for visiting your old folks, kiddo,” King Charming says. He hasn’t changed much, aside from the fact that he too insists on upholding a refined image. Together, he and Cinderella look exquisite and powerful, and Chloe wants to fit right between the two, equally immaculate. She can’t disappoint them.
Cinderella lightly swats Charming on the arm. “We’re not old! We’re cool. Aren’t we, Chloe?”
She can’t help laughing. Her parents are still the same, their personalities and mannerisms not drastically altered like Bridget’s. Chloe should be grateful for that. She shouldn’t be so hung up on the small things.
“Sure,” she says, withholding the urge to roll her eyes. For a moment, everything feels normal- no weird time travel side effects, no pressure.
“Your majesty,” a guard coughs, stepping next to Chloe’s mother. He looks from side to side; there’s a hesitancy in his stance.
Cinderella immediately straightens. She corrects herself, as she’d put it, though Chloe doesn’t think she has anything she should feel the need to correct.
“Right,” she says. “Come along, Chloe.”
The bubble pops. “Mother?”
“I’m going with you,” Cinderella announces. “I have business in Auradon to attend to.”
Chloe lets the words sink in. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Nothing is peculiar about the plan. It makes complete sense to kill two birds with one stone. However, Chloe doesn’t know how much she fancies being in a confined space with her mother for an hour. She feels guilty upon thinking this and it tastes like bile on her tongue. What is wrong with her?
She puts on a dazzling smile. “Awesome!”
‘Awesome’ isn’t exactly a proper word for a princess to use. No one points this out; in fact, her father cracks a grin. She likes getting these little reactions out of her parents. It proves, at least somewhat, that she’s being ridiculous. Maybe Cinderella is stricter than she was before. So what if Chloe had come back from her time travel experience with the goal to relax, which is now not only foreign, but discouraged, with every lesson and rule being one step closer to filling in her mothers polished glass shoes? Those things don’t matter. She’d much rather make everyone proud.
After a few minutes of goodbyes and promises to return, the carriage- daughter and mother in tow- begins to roll down the cobblestone pathway toward the gate. Chloe folds her hands in her lap as Cinderella does the same. Her hands are gloved in dainty white fabric, making Chloe frown internally. Her mother isn’t supposed to like wearing gloves. She’s fond of textures underneath a naked palm, getting messy.
“Any new hobbies lately?” she asks.
Their conversation is stilted. Chloe is polite with her response, saying she’s far too busy with fencing and her studies, which her mother perks up at. It’s the right thing to say, apparently.
The land of their Kingdom rolls by, green hills and sprawling oak trees. She can’t wait to see Red. Over the months, they’ve gotten incredibly close. It’s only natural, considering what they went through together- Chloe doesn’t need any new memories to know how much she cares for the girl. They certainly confuse her, though. It’s not a common topic of discussion, and that’s fine, because Chloe knows how drastic of a shift this whole ordeal has been for Red. Gaining a sister? Your abusive mother suddenly turning as nice as a mid-spring day? Really, she does need a therapist.
Soon they reach beyond the castle’s property and farther into the heart of the land. As the carriage rolls through town square, citizens gather, fawning over their royalty. Numbers grow quickly. In this altered world, Cinderella’s kingdom is second only to Auradon City itself. Influential.
Chloe smiles and waves. She truly loves her people. Interacting with them is a rarity here. There are faces she recognizes in the crowd, parents and children and girls her own age. Honestly, the last group she’s slightly jealous of. It’s not like she has any real right to; she’s grown up privileged, living far better than the children of the Isle of the Lost and even Red, a princess treated as a prisoner for the entirety of her childhood. To complain would be selfish, and to stay oblivious would be ignorant. Chloe is determined that the circumstances of everyone, namely her citizens (no matter who they are,) receive care and respect. Problems heard, listened to, and answered. She wants to be a good queen. A good queen does not stumble.
Cinderella knows each citizen she smiles at by name, greeting them with a fondness in her voice Chloe knows is genuine.
“Hello, Mr. Brunner!” she calls. “Yes, your pies were lovely, thank you!”
It is in these moments that Chloe sees her mother shine the brightest, and yet it is hindered by an invisible wall of restraint.
Suddenly, a high-pitched voice cuts through the clutter. “Princess! Princess! Wait!”
There’s a little girl running to keep up with the carriage. She can’t be any older than nine, colorful ribbons dancing in her hair.
Chloe doesn’t hesitate. “Stop the carriage.”
It is okay to see citizens from a distance. That way, they solely observe a safe, charming image of their royalty. Edited. Flawless. Certain boundaries must be upheld. A ruler is supposed to be her people's shepherd, though she can not be among the sheep herself.
The queen bites her lip. “Chloe-”
“Mother.”
A beat. For a nerve-wracking second, she thinks her mother will say no.
“Very well.”
Cinderella gives the signal to the driver, who turns into a guard, standing by Chloe as she exits the carriage to make sure no one gets too close. Townsfolk jerk their heads like pigeons spotting bread crumbs. They gawk at this unusual sight that should probably not be happening.
The girl gasps and runs up to her. The rules of how to treat one’s royalty have not been ingrained in this child’s memory. “You stopped!”
“Of course I did,” Chloe smiles. She straightens her back and puts forth the most empathetic, wise aura she can. “Is there something you need?”
“I made this for you,” the girl says bashfully, uncurling a small hand.
It’s a bracelet. Built obviously by an inexperienced creator. The beads are mismatched and a variety of sizes.
“My, this is beautiful,” Chloe exclaims. “Can you put it on me?”
The girl nods and clasps the bracelet around Chloe’s wrist. Wonder shines in her wide eyes, she’s grinning so wide it has to hurt.
“I’ll wear it forever,” Chloe promises, briefly glancing to the side. Positioned next to her, the guard shoots a look that whispers hurry; late arrival at Auradon Prep would ensure Cinderella’s tardiness as well. Still, Chloe can’t quite say goodbye. “Every artist should be proud of their work. What’s your name?”
“Diana.”
“Lovely name for a lovely bracelet.”
“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Diana announces. “You’re amazing, princess.”
She’s looking at Chloe like she hung the moon and stars. There’s so much…admiration in her eyes. Gathering citizens watch the scene before them unfold with pleasant expressions and a few laughs. They love this image of Chloe. She does too.
Diana’s mother comes running toward the conversation, spewing apologies that aren’t required.
“Honestly, Diana! I leave you alone for barely a moment!” and similar sentiments fade as Diana is guided away from Chloe. Some of the other citizens try to approach, but the guard firmly refuses.
“The princess is very busy,” he states, not unkind. “We’re on a schedule.”
They respect this blunt imploration, and Chloe is escorted back into the carriage; Cinderella waits patiently in the seat opposite, face unreadable as Chloe sits down.
Once past town square, the road becomes denser, a little less populated. They pass a sign reading: 10 miles until Cinder border. It reminds Chloe, damn her tendency to forget, that the name of her kingdom is different than it once was. Cendrillion is forgotten, erased from the books.
“Mother,” Chloe says tentatively. This has been on the tip of her tongue for ages. The bravery, or desperation, finally gets it out. “Why…Cinder?”
A look of surprise. Surely Chloe has asked the question sometime before, maybe when she was younger. Her mother stays silent for a few beats. It's clear she’s weighing which answer to give. There is no elaboration needed- mother and daughter have a special connection that turns a question of two words into two dozen.
“Well, you know the stories. Ella cleans. She mops and dusts and sweeps until the late hours of the night. She sweeps the cinders from the fireplace and is cruelly nicknamed ‘Cinderella’ by her awful stepmother and stepsisters.”
It is indeed a story Chloe knows by heart. She’d seen some of it firsthand. There aren’t any details altered by time travel, which begs the question of what exactly caused this slight shift in Cinderella that exists now.
Her mother continues. “Yet I welcome it as my namesake, my legacy. It’s what I’m known as. Why is that?”
Another lesson. This one is weirdly intimate. It feels like a secret passed down, responsibility and knowledge reserved for those who can handle it. Chloe isn’t quite sure she can. “Because…I’m not sure.”
It’s a question she hasn’t learned the answer to. She understands that her mother knows this. Finally, the woman spares her. “A cinder is the miniscule remains of a put-out fire. Still, that doesn’t mean it can’t spark a new flame. Cinders are strong. They hold heat. My stepmother tried to put me down with that name. I didn’t let that happen. It is proof that one can overcome the difficult, a testament I want everyone to believe in their heart.”
The eloquent words leave no doubt as to how Cinderella holds such a prominent role in Auradonian politics. Chloe is, to put it simply, mesmerized.
“The kingdom of Cinder is all of those unassuming remains with a fervent, invisible light that have come together to create a fire burning bright.” Here her mother falters. “But it is a double-edged sword.”
This conversation has taken an uneventful turn, evident when the next thing Cinderella says is: “You know of CastleComing.”
Through tales spun by her parents and a time spent temporarily living in them. She can only pretend the former is as far as her knowledge goes. “Of course!”
Cinderella sighs wistfully. “That night was amazing, Chloe. Everything went perfectly. I danced with my best friend, laughed with my future love, twirled under an enchanted sky. I felt like a princess. I wanted each moment after to be just as beautiful. I wanted the joy I saw Merlin Academy have that night to never go out. And so a dream was born.
“I would marry my prince and live in a castle where I could help those left longing for their Castlecoming. My children, whoever they turned out to be, were going to grow up loved, spoiled in ways I never had been.” There is nearly something mournful in her voice. For once, she is showing a side other than the definition of unfazed immaculateness. A pit of anxiety forms in Chloe's stomach; or rather, it remerges. She can’t remember the last time it was actually dormant.
“Through time my dream… warped. Tarnished by the inner workings of court and the responsibilities of the crown. Expectations, rules- they follow a queen like a second shadow. I sometimes wish I could cease the stiffness I’m sure you see. I can’t.
“My dream for my sake became dimmer and dimmer. Cinder, this kingdom, is a reminder that it will always be there, deep down. If not in me, it lives on in my people. Our people. Remember your duty, Chloe.”
In being a seamless night, unwarped by Bridget’s horrid prank and the fallout, CastleComing had awakened a desire in Chloe’s mother. She longed for her happily ever after and had obtained it. Yet somewhere along the way she’d learned the hard truth of the royal world. One misstep could lead to you letting down hundreds, not just yourself.
She’s not all that different from the mother Chloe once knew. The Cinderella of the past had come into royalty with a promise to never forgo her integrity with the weight of losing her dearest friend on her shoulders. This one had followed a dream into her idea of royalty, where she could bring happiness and live in bliss like she desired, deserved. She has dug herself into this pit of responsibility and must stew in it.
Flesh under armor at last revealed. Not a woman who is simply flawlessly perfect, just out of necessity. For the better of others. Someone must do it, after all. And perhaps she had convinced herself in this ocean that this was the only way things could be for her, and then for her daughter, who would take the crown.
It’s an unsettling realization. Chloe almost wants to barrel outside of the carriage and run into the trees. She needs a moment to breathe, somewhere that is not between these four wheels.
Cinderella’s gaze is unwavering. She looks determined. “I push you because I know you can do as good as me. You must, for all the people still waiting for their dream. That is the duty of a queen. Even if it means at your own detriment.”
So her mother believes that it must be her dream too, then: to be a perfect princess, benevolent to all. And it is. She wants to be someone others can rely on, who stands strong in the toughest moments. If the court demands the sacrifice of a few parts of herself, she will oblige, just like her mother. The faces of Cinder’s citizens gather in a mental image. They look up to her. She must be their phoenix, though it will come with a cost.
Perhaps following the rules and such isn’t necessarily being good, but it's being safe, and it’s her duty as princess. A small sliver of her welcomes the challenge. It could be for the best. She likes always working toward a goal, bettering herself. There’s hardly a better feeling than the ecstasy of knowing she’s making someone proud, especially her mother.
All those words Red taught her are important, yes; she wants to remember what it's like to go with the flow, embrace recklessness, even. And Chloe admits that being free and wild- doing things your own way- is not a show of impulsivity or immaturity, as she might have once thought. They’re attributes of good. They’re beautiful, most prominently in Red. But Red is a princess of Wonderland. In this timeline, she can be what she wants, and she deserves to, after being shunned for so long. She deserves to thrive. Chloe believes this. She does, and the ugly parts of her that cannot yet articulate their feelings can crawl back into whatever dark crevice they belong to.
“I’ll do it,” she whispers, the words a binding oath to the future placed in front of her.
“Atta girl,” Cinderella says. “I expect nothing but the best from you.”
Pride swells in Chloe’s chest. Yes, this is worth the hardships: making others happy.
Slowly the mood lightens. It’s mid-afternoon by the time they make it into Auradon City. A giddy anticipation hangs in the air on Chloe’s part; she’s so excited to see Red. And…the others, too!
Pink, Robbie, and Luis are all impeccable people, though besides Pink, she considers them simple acquaintances, the kind of crowd her mother merely approves of. She definitely prefers their company over that of Auradon’s other princes and princesses. She can laugh a little easier with them, at the very least.
Cinderella would much rather have her daughter spend time with the Auradonian Council’s descendants. King Ben and Queen Mal are relatively young, so they don’t have any. Long-standing members like Snow White and Ariel have children that Chloe mingles with at balls and meetings. She’s built up good relationships with everybody in these times, relatively speaking, and so Auradon is where she can focus solely on her success, sparing occasional pleasantries in classes
Red is the one who drags Chloe along to hang out with the others. And Chloe can never say no to Red.
Auradon Prep turns from a speck in the distance to a towering structure. The carriage passes through a finely crafted gate and onto the grounds. A group of attendants wait for Chloe outside the school's main entrance; they help her and her mother out of the carriage, Chloe’s bags already set on the steps by the time both feet are grounded atop stone.
“Welcome back, princess,” one says. It makes her blush, admittedly. She wasn’t even gone that long. Eyes owned by students turn to watch as Cinderella stands outside the carriage.
“You’ll be alright?” she asks, bringing two gloved hands to rest on Chloe’s shoulders.
“I always am,” is her response, and against her better judgment, she brings her mother into a hug, squeezing maybe just a bit too tight. Alive. Alive. Alive. “‘Love you, Momma.”
Her mother squeezes back. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
Chloe doesn’t leave the front steps of Auradon Prep until the carriage is completely out of sight. She realizes she didn’t ask what business in particular her mother is attending to. Probably something with the Council. She’ll ask tonight when she calls home.
The staff have already disappeared with the luggage, much to her dismay; she would’ve liked to have done it herself.
Weekends at Auradon Prep mean everyone is out and about in the middle of the day, unburdened by a bell schedule. Chloe heads straight to her dorm; there’s a certain rebel she longs to see. Right now, she wants to get away from all the pressure, manifesting in students staring and echoing reminders of Cinderella’s lesson, the most crucial one yet. Diana’s eager face appears between blinks.
She spots Max Hatter and his gang out in the courtyard. They can’t see her from where she stands in the window of Auradon Preps’ second floor west wing, providing a nice moment to just…observe. She doesn’t know why she feels the need to. Max Hatter. Hazel Hook. Felix Facillier. The Smee twins, whatever their individual names are. It’s a typical crew of troublemakers. They have no problem playing the roles that are appointed to all VKS. She can’t get a good grasp on any of them. Really, she shouldn’t be trying. They’re not the kind of people a princess mingles with.
She doesn’t approve of the shenanigans Max’s gang gets up to. She can still be fascinated. Max is an oddity. Every once in a while she’ll catch Red looking at him with a strange expression on her face. Like she knows something she’s not telling Chloe.
In a stroke of luck, nobody comes to bother her as she walks through the hallways. A few wave in greeting and congratulate on accomplishments not worth mentioning. They wouldn’t have been able to get her attention for more than a couple of seconds, anyway. Very little can stop Chloe Charming when she’s on a mission- right now, that mission entails flopping down on her dorm bed without a care for decorum or posture.
She grins when she reaches for a familiar key for a familiar door. It slides into the lock (not bolted shut, so perhaps Red isn’t here afterall) and Chloe enters into her second home. Two halves of a room, split down the middle, look completely different from one another. Chloe’s side is just as she left it. Little sticky notes in bright colors pop against the surface of her desk. White covers fit snug around a twin mattress, pillows stacked high.
“‘Took you long enough.”
Red is here. She’s sitting on her own bed, cross-legged, long hair fully down today.
“I was gone for like, three days,” Chloe huffs. And she smiles, because it’s impossible not to where Red is concerned. Onion layers of anxiety roll off her shoulders. She feels better already.
“The stuffy guys came to drop off your stuff,” Red says. She’s either oblivious or uncaring to the fact she used ‘stuff’ two times in that sentence. “They actually bowed to me. Out of respect. Can you believe that?”
There are parts of this new timeline that, obviously, Red hasn’t gotten used to. She can hardly believe she exists in a world where the title of ‘Princess’ comes with reverence and adoration instead of fear. Chloe wishes it hadn’t taken a magical pocketwatch to make that reality.
“I can indeed,” she responds, kneeling down beside the girl's bed. “Your highness.”
A stupid tease. Red snorts and rolls her eyes. “Don’t do that. I already get enough of it in Wonderland.”
Chloe laughs and stands back up. It’s strange. She feels like she’s known Red her entire life. Technically, she has. And ever since they created this timeline, they promised they would work through each change together. They alone know the weight of what they've done. For crying out loud, they saved Auradon itself from a mad queen bent on control. The tree that is their friendship has strong, thick roots.
You’re keeping secrets, a nasty thought bites. She stomps it out. That’s the kind of cinder she doesn't want catching flame. Not that it holds any true merit.
Anxiety and a sense of wrongness edge back into view. Green sludge, she views it as. Claustrophobically clingy.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” she tells Red. Laid-back happiness bolsters the statement; Red has a knack for sniffing out when something is bothering her. “‘Get some of this road-trip musk off me.” Maybe the water would help cut through the sludge.
“Have fun!” Red smirks.
The bathroom door clicks shut. Cold water is cranked to the highest heat. Chloe waits for the shower temperature to gradually augment. She stares in the mirror, pouring over every detail of the girl staring back. Dinner hour hasn’t even arrived and she’s exhausted. It’s a good exhaustion though, one that tells her she’s doing things just right.
Electric music hums muted in the background. Red’s having a jam session. She blasts her preferences loudly, undeterred by any potential judgment- the same attitude she embodies with whatever she does.
Aren’t you jealous?
Wonderland orchestration is very different from the rest of Auradon. The beats of this song vibrate fondly in Chloe’s heart. It may be enchanted, which adds another question to today’s ongoing list as she steps into the shower. Rocketing droplets of water burn against her skin as they fall. She leans into the heat. Stands there, motionless, for longer than necessary.
Freedom from everything but her own mind, and those negative thoughts spewing forth will go away eventually. These moments where she’s completely alone are a solace.
They are enough. They have to be.