Fiction By Aredhel Írissë // 7/2/2013


Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived a young girl by the name or Florette. She had a stepmother, and three stepsisters. They all hated her, because they knew they were very ugly, and she was the most beautiful in the land; although they said they were the most beautiful, and that Florette would look no different if she were turned into a toad. But she knew they were lying. She could tell. How her stepsisters looked at her so enviously. How she would see them whisper among themselves, with their eyes widening. She knew. . And they knew she knew, but they still wouldn't admit. The step mother was angry at how her daughters were not nearly as beautiful as Florette, so she came up with an evil plot. “Girls,” she began. “I have a plan. Tonight, I will go down into the kitchen, when Florette is asleep...”
The only friend Florette had was her dear black and white cat, George, who she loved very much, and it loved her right back. It was the one who woke her up early in the mornings, because
Florette cooked the meals and cleaned the big mansion every day. George woke her up bright and early the next day, by licking her on the face with his smooth soft tongue. Florette went off to get her stepmother and Bernice, Beatrice, and Bianca (for those were her stepsisters names.) Their breakfast. Although she cooked, her stepmother (which by name was Octavia) had gotten up very early in the night, that night, and she had put a poisoning in a bucket of water that Florette used to wash her hands. It was a poisoning that Octavia herself had invented. Not only was it meant yo kill you instantly if it was put in food or drink and you drank it or ate it, but also if you touched it. After that, she had gone back to bed with a wicked smile on her face. She was satisfied, certain that Florette would be dead by morning the next day. Florette went down the long stairs into the kitchen, where she began to get out the things to cook her step families food with . Just then, there was a ring at the door, and Florette went to answer it. She opened the door, only to have to look down to be able to see the short man that stood in the doorway. He looked royal. Perhaps a messenger from the King himself? Florette thought. “Ahem.” He said. “Hello. I am a messenger from the King. I have brought you good news.” “What is it?” Florette asked. “There is going to be a ball, celebrating the Princes twentieth birthday. His father, the king says that he should be married by now, and that is where he wants him to find his bride. At the ball. Every one in the land must come, especially all the woman. But, I must be off now, and tell the whole house about the party. Even maids are to come. And—oh! I almost forgot! The celebration is tomorrow, at seven thirty in the evening.” He said. “Don't forget!” He called over his shoulder, as he jumped into a carriage. At the same time he tossed an envelope, which was when the celebration was, just a reminder so Florette would not forget. She walked into the mansion, and bumped into her stepmother, because she hadn't seen her, because she was looking down at the invitation letter in her hands. “Goodness, gracious!” Octavia said. “And just what were you doing? And what is that?” She snatched the letter from Florette. “Its an invitation to go to the princes birthday celebration, the king wants him to find a bride, and—'' “I can read for myself, Florette! Now, go get the food cooked so we can eat. I'm simply starving!” Florette went into the kitchen as Octavia walked up the stairs to show her daughters the news.
Florette put her hands in the water to wash them, but a moment later, fell to the floor. But the poison had not worked quite as her stepmother had wished. It did not kill her right then. She was only unconscious.

Her stepsisters screamed with delight at the news their mother had just brought them. Octavia made sure that a carriage would be there in time the next day to pick them up. And it was. But the messenger had come, too, and he asked where the young girl who had been there the day before was. Octavia had moved her into her own bedroom so she would not be in the way. Caught on her guard that the man had known about Florette, she could only stutter. “Why she—um—'' Octavia could think of no excuse as to where Florette was.

But the prince, who was also there, had no patience, and just walked in. He had guards search upstairs and downstairs. He himself went to the last floor, and, since Florette's room was the first room he saw, he walked in. There, he saw Florette, lying on her bed. He called the messenger up, and he confirmed that she was the one who had opened the door. The prince (whose name was Henry) picked her up and carried her down the stairs. She was barely breathing, but her heart was beating. “Why would you leave someone in such a state as this?” Asked Prince Henry.

“Such a state as what?” Beatrice asked.

“She is dying.”

“What!” The stepsisters acted as though they were shocked. “Why, what do you mean? We thought she was only sleeping.”

“Then why did you not awaken her to go to the ball as well?” He asked. “Because, we knew she was tired. She had a hard day today, you see, she is our maid. I figured she would not have really cared to go to the ball, anyhow.” Octavia answered. The prince laid Florette down on a couch, and thinking her very beautiful, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. At that moment, Florette's eyes opened, and she sat up. A soon as Florette had laid eyes on Henry, standing there looking down at her on her bed, she was in love. And so was the prince. Very much so. He brought Florette to his palace, where he danced all the night with her. Two weeks later, there was a huge celebration, for the prince now had a bride—Florette. The King was overjoyed, and he loved Florette as much as anything. But the stepsisters were enraged, and died because of anger. And...well, the stepmother just died because she was angry, too, and because her daughters had. But Florette and her husband lived happily ever after for the rest of their days.



Interesting twist of Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella.

Lucy Anne | Fri, 07/12/2013

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Lol. That was kind of the

Lol. That was kind of the idea ;)

Aredhel Írissë | Fri, 07/12/2013

Love the name Florette!

Cute little story! Yeah, good job combining all those fairy tales. :D

Maddi | Sat, 11/09/2013

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

Thank you

Florette actually is another word for flower, originally spelled 'floret,' but Laura told me it would look more like a name if I spelled it like 'florette,' so I did.

Aredhel Írissë | Sat, 11/09/2013


User login

Please read this before creating a new account.