#the to do list for tonight is: (1) sew the dress straps

[rostii]

was on the fence about whether or not i needed to make a silly bonnet type of headpiece to go with my outfit tomorrow night but if it's gonna rain i think i have to make one. that or one of those cute plastic headscarves from the 60s

[freddiesaysalright]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 3

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change. 

Word Count: 2.8k (sorry it’s short)

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @namelesslosers​, @headl0ng​, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix​, @baltimoresweethearts​, @killer-queen-87​, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update! 

Warning(s): Mild descriptions of abuse

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2

Chapter 3 here we go!!!

Eleanor and Miranda were immediately all aflutter, speaking so much and so rapidly that if you hadn’t been standing beside them, you would not have believed it was only two people making so much noise. You couldn’t keep track of who was saying what. 

“A ball?!”

“What for?”

“Who’s going to be there?”

“Is it a special invitation?”

“Will the prince be there?”

“Oh, do say the prince will be there!”

Your own mind was spinning with similar questions. But there was one at the forefront.

“Silence!” Frank interrupted harshly. “The invitation says the whole town has been invited - upon the prince’s request - to attend the ball in honor of his birthday. The king added that he hopes any and all eligible maidens will attend, as the prince is ready to marry.”

“Marry!” gasped Eleanor. 

“You mean - he’s really looking for his wife?!” added Miranda. 

“This is the moment I’ve been waiting for,” he said. “This could be the chance for you, my daughters, to prove your worth. One of you must win his heart.”

You saw your step sisters deflate at their father’s words. Your heart was moved with pity. But, there was still something you had to ask.

“May I go to the ball?” you blurted out. 

Frank’s eyes widened when he looked at you, as if realizing only just now that you were present. Clearly, he had not meant for you to hear. 

“You?” Eleanor sneered. “A servant?”

The sympathy you felt a moment ago evaporated. 

“It says any and all eligible maidens,” you reminded them. “That applies to me. And it is the king’s wishes. The king’s wishes are as good as orders, don’t you think?”

You kept your tone even and cool, fearful Frank might mistake your suggestion for impudence. But you knew better than to outright question him again. 

“Father, you can’t -” Miranda began, but Frank held up a hand to stop her. 

He smiled at you in such a sinister way it sent a chill down your spine.

“Certainly, Y/N, you may attend the ball,” he said.

You blinked, honestly shocked that you had persuaded him. He kept his hand in the air when his daughters tried to protest again.

“If you get your chores done,” he said. 

You beamed. “Oh, I will!”

“And,” he said, making you hesitate. “If you can find something suitable to wear.” 

“I will, sir,” you assured him. “Thank you so much!”

You hurried away to finish your chores for the day. Frank watched you go, a scowl forming across his lips. 

“Father, you don’t really mean she can go to the ball, do you?” asked Eleanor. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frank spat. “Of course she isn’t going.”

“Then why did you -”

“Don’t worry about her!” he cut across Miranda harshly. “Her attendance is conditional, and don’t forget, I set the conditions.”

He grinned to himself as his daughters exchanged worried looks. 

Before you went to bed that night, you went to your mother’s old room. Frank had left it untouched since her death. Her wardrobe was large and varied, so you knew you would be able to find something in there to wear to the ball. You scanned through the gowns, trying to decide on a color. A soft pink caught your eye, so you reached for it. You pulled it free from the rack and held it up, examining for any flaws. Technically speaking, there were none. It was just out of date.

“So much for that idea,” you sighed.

You started to hang it up again, but stopped. You could sew. You altered dresses for your step sisters all the time. Surely you could make some adjustments to this gown and look good enough for the ball. You looked over it once more, noting to yourself all that you could reasonably do within the next 24 hours. You bit your lip. You would need more time than that.

The clock in the hall chimed. You would have to get up in a few hours to do your daily chores. A rash idea came to you - stay up through the night and fix the dress, do your chores quickly, and get a short nap before going to the ball. You could miss dinner if necessary. Through a yawn, you nodded. 

Taking the dress to your room, you started in for the night. 

***

Gwilym awoke the morning of the ball feeling light and excited. He had interacted with a few people from the town before, but nothing to this degree. He wanted to truly get to know his people, and be a better leader to them. His father was right about things changing - Gwilym wanted to be more of a servant to his people than a sovereign. 

He went down to breakfast, joining his father and his friends. The younger men were reading letters from home, while the king was signing some documents. 

“Good morning,” Gwiylm greeted cheerfully as he took his seat. 

The butler placed a plate in front of him while a footman loaded it with food. 

“You’re awfully chipper,” the king said. “I hope that means you’re ready for your ball.”

“I am,” Gwilym assured him. “This is the most exciting birthday I’ve ever had.”

Suddenly, Rami choked on the bite of food he was eating. Gwilym reached over and clapped him on the back, while Rami cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. Through watery eyes, he offered an apologetic glance around the table. 

“Good news from your wife?” Ben wondered. “Or is it…”

Rami shook his head. “No, it’s good. She...she’s still pregnant.”

“Alright!” Ben cried excitedly. 

“That’s fantastic!” Gwilym agreed. 

Both of them knew that Rami and his wife had been struggling to keep a pregnancy. It concerned them both so much, they had a doctor examine them for any problems. The queen required a small surgical procedure, after which there were supposed to be no problems. Rami even hesitated coming to Gwilym’s party in case they got bad news again, but his wife insisted he go. Now, he sniffled as he looked at the letter.

“She made it past three months,” he explained. “The doctor said that’s a sign the baby should make it.”

“That’s wonderful, Ram,” Ben said. “Really, being a dad is the best, you’re gonna love it!”

“I hope it’s a strapping young boy,” the king interjected. “Should remind your people that you’re a king now.”

Rami chuckled. “They can keep calling me Prince Rami, I don’t mind. And as for the baby...boy or girl, as long as they’re happy and healthy I couldn’t care less.”

 Gwilym looked at the king, who seemed to be softening. Then the latter met his own son’s gaze.

“You see, Gwil?” the king asked. “The joys of marriage?”

“I do,” Gwilym replied. “But part of that joy is because Rami loves his wife so much.”

“You really aren’t going to let this love thing go, are you?” the king asked, defeated.

Gwilym shook his head. “Not a chance.” He looked at his friend. “Congratulations, Rami. That’s great news.”

“Thanks, Gwil,” he replied.

“Yes, all health and good fortune to your wife,” the king added. 

“Thank you,” Rami answered. 

They continued breakfast, and Ben told Rami all the great parts of fatherhood that he had to look forward to. And for the first time, Gwilym did feel a pang of jealousy at the happiness of his friends. He seemed resistant to his father, but all he wanted was a partner like Ben and Rami had found for themselves. He hoped beyond reason that whoever was meant for him would appear tonight. And then he could say to his father and everyone else - “At last, I’ve found her!”

***

By some miracle, you had finished your dress before breakfast. You stood up through a yawn and went to help Elsie get breakfast ready. You’d probably kick yourself later, but it was worth it. The dress was beautiful, and looked like the style you’d need for the ball. 

A pleasant surprise came when Frank told you he and the girls would be going to town today to shop for new gowns for them to wear. You nodded, and assured him everything would be done by the time they returned. Once they were gone, Elsie came over to you. 

“Y/N, my dear, go up to bed,” she said. “Robert and I can handle the chores.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, yawning again. “I can help, I really don’t mind.”

“We’re sure,” she said. “Go on and get some sleep. Tonight could be the most magical night of your life. Don’t spoil it by being tired.”

You agreed and shuffled back to the servant’s quarters. You crawled into your bed and shut your heavy eyelids, dreaming of the joys the ball would bring. You dreamt of music, dancing, your gown, and the face of Gwilym. Perhaps he would be there, and he could see you at your best. 

Your eyes snapped open. Gwilym was having a ball according to his friends. There were people coming from all over. Could it be that he was the prince, and was inviting the townspeople to his birthday? How had you not put it together before? Gwilym was the prince!

Your heart sank. If that was the case, you had to give up any hope of him. A prince could not be with a servant. Even if by birth you were a gentleman’s daughter, you no longer held that place. Frank had robbed you of it. Gwilym was out of your reach. 

You fell asleep despite your heart breaking at the thought of not being enough. You were just too tired. You slept just a couple hours before Elsie came to wake you. You would need some time to appear fresh when Frank got home. 

The girls demanded your help in getting ready, and you obliged. They ordered you around to pick up their sashes and necklaces and ear bobs and petticoats - just to find the perfect look for the evening. You even helped them put on some rouge and style their hair. They looked beautiful. But, you knew what they were like on the inside. You wondered if Gwilym would have the chance to meet them. And if he did, would he see their true nature?

The ball was set to begin at eight o’clock. Your step sisters were ready by seven, so they had time to have dinner before leaving. While they ate, you went up to get ready. Elsie helped you into your dress, but you did your own hair. You pinned it back, away from your face, the way your mother always liked it. You admired yourself in the mirror a moment. A jolt of nerves went through you. You still didn’t look like your step sisters. How would you compare to all the other fine ladies you were sure were attending tonight?

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about that. You couldn’t think about Gwilym. You were just going to go and have a good time. Take a well-earned break. And if you met someone there, then very well, but if not, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be too disappointed. 

***

Gwilym stood still while his valet finished with his clothes. There was still about an hour before the ball would start, and he would be meeting all the noble women his father invited. And yet, your face swam into view in his mind. He had barely stopped thinking about you since seeing you that day at the cemetery, and then again at the tavern. He still felt flush each time he recalled you wishing him good luck. Well, he certainly needed it tonight. Especially if you turned up.

***

At half past seven, the carriage was pulled to the front to take you all to the palace. You came down and couldn’t help but smile. Frank looked you over and scowled. 

“What is this?” he demanded. 

You faltered, coming to a stop about a yard away from him. Something in his face frightened you. 

“It was my mother’s,” you said, turning to show him. “I’ve updated it to match the current style, but -”

“Stop!” he cut across you. “There are very few things that are left of your mother’s, and you chose to take one - without permission - and ruin it?!”

“I haven’t ruined it, I just -”

“You stupid, selfish girl!” he shouted, crossing the front hall in just three strides. He was so close to your face, you had to take a step back. “You really think I’d let you go to the ball now? When you have defaced the property of my dearly departed wife?!”

“I didn’t know -”

“Silence!” he snapped. “I will not allow you to defend this behavior. Take off the gown at once.”

You stepped back again, but he followed. 

“I don’t have anything else,” you said meekly. 

He snarled, reached out his hand, and grabbed a handful of the bodice, right at the chest. He yanked down hard, pulling you so much that you stumbled. You heard a long riiiiip as the dress came apart at the seams. The front was completely torn away, revealing your corset underneath. You gasped and moved to cover yourself, but his next move came for your sleeve. He jerked it away from your arm and tossed it to the floor, along with the piece from the bodice. He repeated with the other sleeve. He took the sash next and wrenched it away. 

You felt hot tears of humiliation and shame run down your cheeks. You kept your arms in front of you and sank to the floor. 

“Stop it,” you croaked out. “Please.”

He raised his hand and you shrunk away, fearing he might truly strike you. 

“Father,” Miranda said. “We’re going to be late.”

Frank slowly lowered his hand to his side. He glowered at you. 

“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. “And never again presume to have a claim on things that belonged to my wife.”

Your lips trembled as he swept away. The girls followed him out. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor questioning what had just happened to you. It didn’t seem real. But the pieces of the dress sat on the floor just feet away from you, clear as crystal. When you heard the door close, you buried your face in your hands and let out a sob. 

***

Gwilym waited to be announced. The king went first, followed by Rami, since he was king of the neighboring country. Ben was announced next, since he was a visitor and prince. And then Gwilym. As he stepped out into the ballroom, he scanned the crowd, hoping to spot you. All he saw so far was glittering jewels and satin gowns. He sighed before making his way forward to begin introductions. 

He had asked Ben and Rami to be on the lookout for you as well. When the first half hour was over, he took a break and went to his friends. 

“Any sign of her?” he asked. 

Rami shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Me neither,” Ben said. “Sorry, mate.”

Gwilym sighed. “She must not be coming.”

“There’s still some carriages outside,” Ben said encouragingly. “She could be on any one of them.”

“Yeah, don’t give up just yet,” Rami said. “You’ve got all night.”

Gwilym nodded. He knew he mustn’t be over anxious, but couldn’t help feeling sore. Where were you? What could have kept you from this?

***

You escaped the house and fled to the garden. That was where your mother always took you for comfort. Your father loved to garden, and you always remembered him in this place. In truth, it was a place that was cherished by both your parents, and you needed to feel close to them now. You flopped down onto one of the benches and cried some more.

“It’s no use,” you sobbed. “God, it’s hopeless.”

You brought your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them. Your tears splashed into the fabric of your ruined dress. 

“Now, my dear,” said a soft voice to your left.

You whipped your head up and faced the source. There in the garden stood a plump woman in a white cloak. Her silver hair hung around her face in delicate curls. She had a metallic glow around her as well that drew you in. In her right hand, she held a staff with a sapphire the size of a fist at the top.

Fear and amazement kept you frozen where you sat. She didn’t appear to be a threat, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. And yet, you felt like you knew her somehow.

“Wh-who are you?” you wondered. “How did you get in here?”

“With magic, my dear,” she said, beaming. “As for my identity - I’m your fairy godmother.”

“My…” your brow furrowed. “My what?”

“Your fairy godmother,” she repeated kindly. “And I understand you are in desperate need of some help.”