#disney fluff

You didn’t have long to dwell on the absence of your partner before Ariel stepped back into the room. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed you awake.

“Oh did I wake you?”

You shook your head slowly, then immediately nuzzled your face into his lap the moment he sat down beside you. His expression softened into concern as his hand brushed across your forehead.

“Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

You shook your head again, your voice muffled against him. “I’m dying.” Ariel’s hand halted for a moment having been with him for a couple of years now he knows you tend to dramatize things a bit, but he was still concerned.

He gently moves your head from his lap and stands up “I'll go get some help”. You reach your hand out as he walks towards the door.

“Nooo don't leave me! Not in my last waking moments” the redhead just chuckles looking back at you saying “I'll be back” before leaving the room.

•••

“It is nothing more than the flu. Prince Ariel. All she needs is rest”

“Though I do suggest you keep your distance. It is contagious” Grimsby reduces Ariel’s concerns after checking you. Reassuring him you'll be fine.

“I won't be okay though….It's over for me” Grimbsy sighs rolling his eyes and looking back down at you. “You are not dying Your Highness”

You groan draping your arm over your eyes. “It feels like I am….Ariel..will you take care of my seashell collection when I pass?”

Ariel’s brows knitted together, lips parting like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Take care of-? No! You’re not passing, you’re just-” he waved his hands uselessly, searching for the right word, “—sniffly!”

You peeked at him dramatically from under your arm. “This is the end, Ariel. Tell the gulls I loved them…”

Grimsby let out a long-suffering sigh, straightening his coat. “Your Highness is not passing. She has the flu. A common, ordinary, perfectly curable flu.” He glanced at Ariel. “Do not indulge this nonsense.”

But Ariel ignored him, moving back to kneel at your bedside. He took your hand between both of his. “If it means that much to you,” he said through a small chuckle, “I’ll take care of every seashell. I’ll polish them, I’ll guard them, I'll even take care of the chipped ones you insist on keeping”

You cracked one eye open, trying not to smile. “And the ones that smell like fish?” you croaked.

He nodded immediately. “Especially those ones.”

That made Grimsby pinch the bridge of his nose. “Heavens above… melodrama and gullibility. I’ll fetch tea.”

You let out another weak groan, shifting under the blankets. “If this is the end, Ariel, sing me something… so my soul may depart in peace.”

His eyes softened instantly, and before Grimsby could scold you both again, Ariel leaned closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Then I’ll sing you to sleep,” he whispered, voice warm and low.

And he did, soft and shaky at first, but steadying as he went on.

Grimsby returned with the tea, muttering, “Utterly hopeless,” when he saw the prince still singing to his perfectly not-dying beloved.

Even though you did whisk her away from her old life so she could start anew happy life with you in the castle she still did tend to do certain things out of habit. Which you thought was no longer necessary you thought she should live and be treated like a royalty—a princess.

“Ell, you don't have to clean that up we have maids you know.” you watch as she gets down on her hands and knees to clean up the mess from a broken vase. Water glass and flowers on the floor.

Cinderella looks up at you with a gentle smile, unfazed by your words. “I know, but it’s only fair that I clean up the mess I made,” she replies, carefully picking up the larger shards of glass.

You sigh, stepping forward to take her hands in yours, stopping her movements. “You’re a princess now, Ell. You shouldn’t have to do things like this.”

She tilts her head slightly, her blue eyes warm. “Just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten who I am,” she says softly. “Helping, cleaning, and taking care of things—it’s part of me. I don’t mind.”

You exhale, kneeling beside her despite your royal attire. “At least let me help you, then,” you say, picking up a cloth to soak up the spilled water.

Cinderella’s expression softens as she watches you. “You’re too kind,” she murmurs, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

•••

Cinderella softy sighs as she plops down on the sofa slouching down a bit. Her head perks up when hearing you come close. Smiling a bit at the sight your presence as you sit take a seat beside her.

“Tired dear? You've been on your feet all day how about I give you a massage? Please” you offer try to temp her to let you pamper her.

She softly chuckles in response “well if you insist dear”. You grab her legs moving them over your lap and slip her shoes off before starting to gently massage her feet adding pressure in the right spots.

Cinderella lets out a pleased sigh as your fingers work their magic, kneading the soreness from her feet. “Oh… that feels wonderful,” she murmurs, her head resting against the back of the sofa.

You chuckle, squeezing her foot just right to ease the tension. “See? I told you I’d take good care of you.”

She peeks at you through half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “You always do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You grin, pressing a playful kiss to her ankle before continuing the massage. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

•••

“Cant sleep love?” you question as you slip into bed next to her. Cinderella turns to face you letting out a soft hum.

“Im finding it a bit difficult”

Your hand moves up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. And softly caressing her cheek a smile creeping onto your face. “I could sing you to sleep yeah” you offer which erupts a quiet chuckle from her knowing your singing is anything but angel-like.

“I think I'll pass dear”

You let out a gasp in mock offense. “What? Why not? I have the voice of an angel” you retort back your hand sliding down to her blanketed waist.

Cinderella laughs softly, shaking her head as she gazes at you with warmth in her eyes. “An angel, you say? More like a lovesick bird who can’t carry a tune,” she teases, her fingers playfully tracing along your arm.

You scoff dramatically, tightening your hold around her waist. “I’ll have you know, my singing is a rare gift. You’re just too stubborn to appreciate it.”

She giggles again, resting her forehead against yours. “Oh, my dear, I appreciate everything about you… just maybe not your singing.”

Pulling her closer until she’s nestled against your chest. “You wound me but fine, if you don’t want my heavenly lullaby, I suppose I’ll just have to hold you until you fall asleep.”

She hums contentedly, nuzzling into you. “That sounds like a much better idea.”