Cinder Elli

Galindi gently took his right hand, and spread Elliot's fingers out, placing a golden orb in the palm. She pressed his hand upward, toward his throat, until the warm light slid inside. He gasped. "What..." He paused. His voice was high pitched, and breathy. It made his words sound plaintive, like a damsel in distress.

"Shh," the fairy whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. Again, there was a warm tingling - but it didn't spread. "This is a very delicate process..."

"!" His lips wouldn't separate. His tongue was like a dead weight inside his mouth. He had no way to speak. He could only stare helplessly as Galindi gestured to his clothes on the floor. The blue dress dissolved into thread and cloth, shifting to a slightly lighter color. Elliot recognized the sky blue of his own eyes, and those eyes widened.

The cloth wrapped itself around his waist, thinning to a simple strip of cloth and settling right above the hips. It was softer than it had been, softer than the finest cloth he'd ever felt. He ran his fingers over it in shock, until Galindi batted his hands aside. The fairy was frowning at what little outfit she'd created. She pulled a silver strand of hair from her head, letting it glow and expand into a shining ribbon. She tied that around his waist, ignoring Elliot's weak attempts to push her away as she made a small bow above his ass.

The soft fabric began to drip, blue rivulettes sliding down his hips, flowing off his body in an arc and descending toward the floor. The streamlets of cloth stopped, as if they'd hit some invisible wall, right above Elliot's ankles. Blue threads began to move among the fabric, and Elliot stared down in shock as he watched the cloth pulling itself into existence, just like his own body had done a few moments before. The skirts of a ball gown dress were being formed right on his body, flowing in a beautiful arc that slowly settled into static, pleated cloth.

Elliot felt the cloth as it began to climb, creeping upward with new tendrils. They stayed close to the skin, climbing their way up his stomach and to his breasts. The blond's breathing grew heavier as the delectable fabric caressed them, flowing around the areola, pinching the nipples for a few moments until the fabric could begin forming around his breasts. It lightly squeezed his mammaries toward each other, forming cleavage as it lifted and supported the flesh. The cloth was no longer moving higher, having stopped right at the curve of his chest. It was only stretching itself around his small frame, curving around the underside of his breasts to perfectly encapsulate the flesh, closing around his back.

There was no movement for a moment, and Elliot thought it was over. Then the fairy kneeled down to take his right foot and casually lift it. He wiggled the toes, still getting used to the feel of having such a tiny thing attached to him. He wasn't sure what she was planning, though, until one of the black socks lifted into the air. It slid onto his foot, stopping just at the curve of his ankle. The fabric hardened in place, forcing his toes into their resting position. It thickened, and he watched the color fade entirely from the cloth, until he was wearing nothing but thick glass slippers, with just a touch of heel. Galindi placed the foot down, and repeated the process with Elliot's left foot, while he tried to comprehend what was going on. He was wearing perfectly formed. Glass. Slippers. Magical shoes! A fantastic dress. And he was going to the ball... As Cinder Elli.

Still not speaking, Galindi reached out to touch her charge's face. He felt a warm flush as his cheeks reddened, creating the effect of blush. She traced her fingers around his lips, and gently touched each eyelash. "There!" His godmother smiled, finally satisfied. She reached between her breasts, and pulled out a tiny silver mirror; he could only assume she'd fit it in with magic. He stared at his own reflection, in shock.

His face was different. There were similarities; his eyes were still the same and his cheeks were still round. Yet the contours he'd always tried to create with makeup were now just part of his features - his cheeks were flushed permanently pink. His soft lips were plump and full and a deep blood red. His eyelashes were long, dark and thick, and left no smudges no matter how many times he blinked. Because it wasn't makeup. It was him.

Far too soon, the mirror disappeared back into Galinda's cleavage. "Come on!" Galindi was grinning. "Even with a fairy coach, you'll be dreadfully late even if we hurry. Which we can't afford, because all this magic only lasts until midnight - which is really dumb, but the point is we only have until midnight to set you up with someone who will love you when all this disappears! So get in the carriage!"

Elliot pointed stubbornly at his lips. He needed to talk. If he could explain things, there was still time for her to fix everything. Galinda didn't seem like she was in the mood to listen, though. She pointed at his shoes, and twitched her index finger. The shoes began to move on their own, lifting his feet, one after the other, and setting them down again.

"No time to talk!" the fairy warned. You can do that at the ball, the spell was only set for a few minutes."

A few minutes. He tried to grab at the counter, but his legs wouldn't stop moving, as weak as his muscles were. There was no way he could resist the power of magical shoes. With the fairy holding the door open, his feet forced him to walk out the back door, and circle back around to the front. There really was a carriage there. A riderless carriage, pulled by two silver horses. One glanced at Elliot and snorted, tossing its head back and forth, and stomping its hoof. It was almost like a "hello."

The carriage was also silver, matching Galindi's hair color. It had pink trimming around its wide oval doors. Elliot realized, in the back of his mind, that the color matched the veins in the fairy's wings. He wondered if Galindi had picked the coloring herself, but then the doors spread apart and she was being forced into the cabin, above the white seats.

The carriage started to move, and the first curve in the road caused Elliot to fall back into the seating. It was soft, made of the same material as his clothing. He leaned back into it, not knowing what else to do as the carriage raced toward the castle and the princess's ball. Even if his legs could move, a quick check of the doors told him that they were locked, somehow. Even if he could get them open, they were racing past the trees at a breakneck pace. There was no escape. He could only stay in the carriage as it raced down the dirt road and turned sharply away from the town, toward the actual paved streets.

At the unnatural pace these horses were moving, it couldn't have taken more than five minutes before they were pulling up in front of the castle. More than enough time for Elliot's lips to finally separate, but with no one to talk to there wasn't much point. Hepoked his head out the window instead, once the horses slowed, just taking in the large gray rock and spires of the castle. The iron-wrought gates opened eagerly for such a fancy carriage, but he knew he could have arrived in anything he wanted. Every man and woman of marrying age was invited to the princess's ball, so long as they could afford nice clothes and didn't interfere with the princess's right to choose her own husband.

The doors opened by themselves, startling the valet and shaking Elliot from his thoughts. He willingly stood up when the shoes began to move, and discovered they allowed him to move under his own power so long as he wasn't resisting the path they chose. He was walking into the castle, past the portcullis and onto the red carpet that had been rolled out for every guest. It was startlingly pristine for something so many people had been walking on, but then again, who was going to walk on the princess's carpet with dirty shoes? His own heels left only the barest indentations in the carpet, and they quickly faded from the red material as Elliot began the long walk. He had to travel down several hallways and up a pair of steps to reach the ball. The blond wasn't worried, though. He knew that he just needed to follow the red carpet. He would give a perfunctory hello to whoever was guarding the door, and then he would spend the rest of the night avoiding any men who might get ideas.

Elliot took a deep breath when he reached the end of the path. Two solid oak doors stood in front of him, and he wanted to pause for a moment. With the shoes threatening to ram him into the door if he didn't move, the former maid had no choice but to simply throw open the doors.

He was standing at the top of a staircase. He was staring down at a mass of dancing couples, men in black suits and women in ballroom gowns and sleek dresses, short skirts and long skirts, gold and red and blue and green. He was struck by how much variety there was among them. Yet not a single one of them had a dress that came from a fairy, or a body crafted for this ball. He felt like the prettiest girl at the ball... for a moment. Until he remembered that he wasn't a girl, that this form would only last until midnight, and that everyone else was there of their own merit.

The glass shoes were already descending down the stairs, and Elliot hurriedly grabbed at the bannister, trying to appear graceful as he took control back from the shoes. He was aware of people staring at him, eyes turning to the girl who'd entered the ball late, and it made Elliot's cheeks flush even pinker than their natural shade. From his vantage point, he could notice a brunette woman making her way through the crowded ballroom floor. It should have been difficult for anyone to make their way through the dancers, but the people seemed to suddenly part wherever the figure walked. It was like she had her own little air bubble in the sea of revelers, that no one dared penetrate. The woman reached the surface of the crowd before Elliot could finish walking down the stairs, and he paused in shock at her clothing. At her suit.

He had never seen a woman in pants before. They fit her differently than they did the men. The cloth clung lightly to her legs, showing off the shapely muscles beneath. It supported her bottom, instead of hiding it, and whenever she turned to greet someone, Elliot caught sight of that perfect ass so clearly that he wanted to blush.

The woman's white shirt was all of one piece, with no buttons that he could see. It hugged her stomach, and her breasts. Small, compared to Elliot's, but definitely there. A sky blue tie hung from her neck, resting between the slight hills of her breasts. The only concession to femininity was a silver ribbon, holding back her hair in a simple bow.

Over it all laid a black jacket. She was wearing the same clothes as all the men, but somehow it felt like the men were copying her. The confidence with which she walked toward him, the slight smile on her lips, the way she placed one hand on the swell of her hips. Above her sheathed sword, with its golden hilt and silver scabbard. He swallowed, uncertainly, but his shoes were taking him right toward her.

There was a small smile on her lips, and a twinkle in her eye. When the shoes finally stopped, a few feet away from her, the woman removed the hand from her hip and held it out toward Elliot. He automatically dropped into a curtsy, and then took the fingers uncertainly in his own. "Most of the nobility know to get here on time. I usually frown at lateness from my guests." Her lips stayed in that smile, and her voice was soft. She didn't seem angry.

"I'm..." He paused, still unused to his new voice. He took a moment to replay his words, and swallowed hard. Her party. She was the princess. No wonder she was allowed to dress like that. "I'm not nobility. Princess."

The smile faded from her lips. Of course, she had no reason to smile at a peasant. "Princess." She spoke, flatly, squeezing his hand tightly until his eyes flicked to hers in surprise. "My name is Kallina. Not princess. I'd appreciate you using my name, while we dance."

"Dance...? With the prin... With you?" Elliot had practiced dancing before. As a man. As the theoretical lead. Could this frail body even dance?

The princess smiled again. Still holding the blond's hand, she lifted it up into the air and placed her other hand around his waist. She stared at him until he shifted his own free hand to her hip, lightly brushing aside the long brown strands of her hair. "It is my ball," Kallina whispered, leading him into the dance. The glass slippers moved automatically, sliding into a perfect waltz. "I'm legally allowed to dance with whoever I choose. Whenever I choose. For however long I choose. You should consider it punishment for being late, miss...?"

"E-Ellie," he whispered, staring at her. The princess's features were more harshly angled than he would have expected; but it was softened by the constant smile on her face and the warmth in her moss green eyes. It made her look beautiful. "Cinder Elli."

"Something tells me there's a story behind that." Kallina's hand drifted down, touching Elliot's bottom. He thought it was a mistake, until he felt her squeeze, and the blond's blush made him feel like he'd been set on fire. "Perhaps you can tell me over dinner, sometime?"

Was she. Was the princess flirting with him? Did she somehow know he was a man? Or was she really interested in... women. That was impossible; everyone knew women longed for the touch of men. Except her hand wasn't leaving his ass.

"I'm... just a maid. I have to go back to work after this - I couldn't possibly intrude on a princess's dinner..."

The princess leaned down to press her lips against Elliot's, and the man felt an electric shock as Kallina's tongue ran over his lips. "Tell me about it now, then."

"Princess..."

"Kallina," the brunette corrected, frowning again. "And that was an order. Tell me how you got the name Cinder Elli."

He stared into her eyes. The warmth was still in her eyes, but there was also a certain hardness beneath it. She was taking in every detail of him, and he blushed yet again, from being exposed to something so intense. "I... My stepfamily. They make me clean, as a maid. In my mother's house." Elliot was surprised by how bitter his voice had turned. "When I clean the chimney, I get covered in ash. So they call me Cinder Elli."

"...I see." The princess continued to move through the dance in silence, seemingly lost in thought. Then she smiled, beginning to speed up her dance, holding Elliot so close that he could feel the swell of her breasts against his, Time ticked by, the two of them just staring into each other's eyes. The princess had really beautiful eyes.

"Don't... Don't you have to dance with other people?" Elliot asked for a moment. "It might look weird. Dancing with a woman all night..." How long had they been dancing? With no clock, or natural light, it was difficult to tell. For that matter, what time had he actually left the house?

"It's a little late in the party for that, love." She raised her voice when she spoke that last word, ignoring the look of uncertainty on Elliot's face. "And I think the people will understand if I want to dance with my betrothed."

"B-Betrothed?" Elliot stiffened. Only the magic slippers kept his feet moving across the ground.

"You don't think I go around kissing just anyone? Especially in front of every citizen of my country..." He started to look around, but the princess had stopped dancing. He caught sight of the eyes that were on him, the utter stares of shock as rumor rippled down the ranks about what had happened. He'd been so caught up in Kallina. Of course people would have noticed the kiss!

The princess wasn't worried, though. She smiled, releasing his hand for a moment so that she could wrap both of hers around his waist, and casually lifted him up until their lips were level. She pulled him into another kiss, knowing that every eye was upon her, and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Elliot was too shocked to resist.

The princess. Wanted to marry him? The princess wanted to marry Cinder Elli? A maid. A woman. Women didn't marry women. It wasn't done. Unless this was the real reason eligible women were allowed to come to the ball. No. Women married men. Everyone knew that. Except, perhaps, for the princess.

"...What would your mother say?" Elliot asked after a moment. His voice sounded frail to his own ears. It was a shallow deflection.

"She'll say that it's a princess's right to pick her own spouse. I'll use a spell to get you pregnant, she'll complain about me not staying home enough with the grandchild, and I'll take care of the country while you organize the household and help me listen to complaints from the common folk. You'll live in comfort and happiness, and never have to go back to your stepfamily. That's why you're here in so much finery, isn't it?"

"I..." He had intended that; but he hadn't wanted to be the woman in the scenario. He never even imagined children, or being the one who got pregnant.

"Tell me about yourself," the princess demanded, shifting her right hand back to his. She started to dance again, and his own feet picked the steps back up. He heard feet begin to move, and conversation resume, but he could feel eyes on him. "What do you eat? I like fresh venison, myself, but not everyone can hunt."

"...Scraps," Elliot admitted. "I eat table scraps, alright!?" He was yelling. He was yelling at the princess, angry at the princess. His new voice made him sound like it was a petulant tantrum, but the rising blood pressure within was very real. "I eat whatever food the family leaves me. And I sleep in the attic, and I clean my mother's house, and I wear her old dresses and I won't inherit any of my father's will because he only left money to his sons!" He was panting, his feet still moving in the dance but his back utterly rigid, and moving as little as possible. "Is that what you want to hear? That I'm a charity case?"

The princess removed her hands from his. Her eyes had shifted again, the deep green now looking him over intently over. The anger vanished under her gaze, leaving him with just an acute awareness of who he had been screaming at, and what she could do to him with the sword at her hip. He tried to step backward, only to slam against one of the ballroom's walls. He'd been maneuvered; trapped. His chest began to heave as his breath quickened.

The princess placed one arm against the wall, lightly grazing his breasts with it. She leaned in, until her lips were just a few centimeters away from Elliot's. Ignoring the people around them, she whispered "I want you to realize that we're in this together. I need a beautiful wife I can trust, with no political ties. You need a place to escape. We both need to escape the embarrassment of a lover's spat, in front of the entire country. Plus, you're obviously attracted to girls and this is the only precedent that could possibly make it legal. So shut up, think about it, and let me kiss you."

Kallina leaned down. Elliot stood in place, closing his eyes as her lips closed the distance between them. He didn't dare dodge, and somehow he found his lips gently pursing to accept her's. It felt like another electric shock through his body, arcing down his spine.

Was the princess right? It didn't matter, he reminded himself. The entire situation was insane... She was the princess, he was a peasant - and he wasn't a he. He'd be reverting back, soon. In front of all these people. Then, not even the princess would want, or be able, to protect him.

Elliot had to get out of there. "I have to get out of here..."