The sun shone on the land of Sokovia, casting its golden light onto the war-torn little kingdom, creating a horrifying stark contrast. Buildings were in ruins, and those that were still standing were old and run-down. Ivy and other types of plant life scaled the stone walls and covered more of the streets than people would've liked, though no one did anything about it. What once were beautiful forests where fairies and others benign creatures roamed free, were now dark and overrun with carnivorous creatures that preyed on the innocent that accidently stumbled into it late at night.

Ever since the deaths of the King and Queen, the kingdom fell into a civil war that lasted for several years, and then spent the last few years engaged in different wars with various other kingdoms that fought against the small nation and each other for control. Attacks were random so it was rare to see people outside of their homes for long periods of time.

The troops that were stationed inside the small defenseless kingdom were rude and inconsiderate. They would engage with enemies in the open streets, take what they wanted from the markets, set fire to fields when the tenants couldn't pay the rent, and would terrorize the downtrodden citizens.

During the first few years of war, the people hoped and prayed for some sort of redemption, mostly praying for Prince Pietro and Princess Wanda to help deliver them from pain and suffering, but nothing came. No one had heard from either the prince or the princess since the deaths of their parents, but a few years later, tragedy struck the small kingdom once more when it was revealed that Prince Pietro had been found dead in his room.

With the many wars over, the people breathed a small sigh of relief, though the aftermath of the wars still ravaged them. Famine swept through the land and hung above the heads of the people like an everlasting dark cloud.

Despite the sadness the plagued the kingdom, the young princess Wanda worked tirelessly to provide what little happiness she could. She organized different events and festivities that were open to all people, held banquets where she shared the food that she had, volunteered at orphanages and shelters to help care for the children that were left behind and the poor, organized trade with her allies to bring in more food and goods.

Regardless of all she did, it was never enough. As an unmarried and uncrowned monarch, she could only do so much for her people and it bugged her. She knew that she could do a whole lot more if she was officially crowned queen, but she couldn't be crowned unless she was married, which got on her nerves. For two years her advisors had set her up with different matches to try to arrange a marriage for her, but she turned them all away. She didn't just want to marry for political and financial gain, she wanted to marry for love too, but she knew she couldn't be selfish, and that killed her. She hated how this much responsibility fell to her and affected her personal life, dictating who she was allowed to marry. And yet, she suck it and tried not to be too picky when presented with a potential match.

○○○

In the country, on the outskirts of Sokovia's northern borders, in a well-kept manor lived a young woman. She had fiery red hair that flowed freely to the middle of her back, wound in loose curls that danced in the soft blowing wind. Her name was Claire. She lived alone, her only company being a small black dog named Bicky that followed her all around the manor and connecting grounds as she went about her chores. When she wasn't doing chores at her own house, she went around to all the closest houses in the nearby town performing small house-keeping services. Though they were grateful for her offer, most people politely turned her down so they wouldn't have to pay her, which she understood. Her only regular customers were a small well-to-do family—the Carters—that practically abused her and her generosity.

They would overload her with work which kept her at their house long after dark, leaving her to drive her horse drawn buggy back home through the woods (because it was a short-cut) in the middle of the night, and regardless of how much work she did for them, at the end of the week, Madame Carter always insisted on paying Claire the bare minimum, claiming that "times were tough for her family right now, dear," which just wasn't true. But Claire bit her tongue and smiled, grateful to be getting anything at all for her troubles and would head home.

When she wasn't working heavily for the Carters, Claire sat alone in her manor curled up on the floor in front of the roaring fire singing softly to herself and to Bicky and daydreaming of one day getting the hell out of Sokovia, her hand tightly grasping the hand of her true love, whoever that was. She would close her eyes as she sung a soft and gentle tune, imagining her lover's hand in hers, hearing their beautiful laugh that she couldn't get enough of, feeling their lips on hers carrying her into a state of bliss never once achieved. But then, her eyes would open, and she would often become just the tiniest bit sad and sigh as she stared into the flames. It was only just a dream.

One day, when Claire was going about her business in town, a chorus of trumpets sounded to her left. The crowd gathered as a small battalion of soldiers set up a small stage where a smaller man stood, holding a piece of parchment. He was dressed in the formal clothes, with royal colors of blue and red, a large bright red feather hung from his cap. Curiosity coursed through Claire as she stood in the crowd, waiting to hear what the royal messenger had to say.

"Hear ye, hear ye! A message from her royal highness, Princess Wanda!" he declared, rolling out the parchment for him to read. "In three days' time, the Princess has declared there to be a royal ball open to all of the good people of Sokovia."

The crowd gasped happily and murmured in excitement at hearing the messenger's words. Though they were common, royal balls were always an event to look forward to. There was delicious food (and plenty to go around), good music to dance to and even better partners, and the dresses were to die for. The seamstress will be very busy in the next few days.

The ride home was silent as usual. Bicky yipped happily and jumped around in the back of the cart, causing Claire to laugh at the small beast. Claire loved the little dog, cherishing his love and affection as a sign of her parents long gone.

"Are you having a good time back there?" she asked him as she turned around slightly to look at the small animal, her voice filled with humor. The dog caught her mood and yipped happily, wagging his tail and panting loudly. He bounded from the back of the cart to the bench on which she sat, crawled into her lap, and licked her face. Claire smiled at him, and with one hand, scooped him up off her lap and placed him down on the bench next to her. Bicky panted happily, his little tongue darting in and out of his mouth and his light blue eyes surveyed the landscape around them.

Claire parked her cart by the entrance of her manor and unhooked her horse, leading him into the connecting stable. He neighed and stomped his foot. Claire giggled and stroked the long bridge of his snout and he leaned his head into her soft and gentle touch.

"Yeah, you're a good boy, aren't you Argos? Yes you are."

Argos nickered and let out a small huff, his nostrils flaring briefly.

"What do you say, Argos? Should I even bother going to this stupid ball? It's not like anything is going to happen. I mean, nothing will change; my life will still be this if I go."

He let out another nicker and stamped his foot.

"You really think I should go?" Argos neighed loudly and shook his mane. "Well, you never let me down before."

Claire patted his neck and left the stable, walking into the manor.

○○○

The day before the ball did nothing to ease the Princess's nerves. Princess Wanda paced the floors of her bedroom, nervously biting the nail on her thumb as her advisor and closest friend, Jemma, sat on her bed watching her go, a sympathetic look on her face. Jemma hated watching the Princess do this to herself. She was aware of how stressed the Princess was, and most of her male advisors were not helping that regard. They kept demanding she be married and follow the ancient laws of the kingdom.

Jemma stood up from Wanda's bed and walked towards the princess, grasping her slightly shaking hands in hers, and stopped her pacing. Wanda looked into the brown eyes of her best friend and sighed, feeling the stress climb up her throat, suffocating her.

"Wanda, you need to calm down," Jemma said in a quiet and gentle voice. Wanda, sighing again, took a hand from Jemma's and ran it through her silky brown hair.

"How can I? The ball is tomorrow and I just know the lords will do all they can to set up yet another marriage proposal. And I can't just deny it in front of the entire kingdom. It'll be selfish and they'll be angry and demand that I accept or they'll force me off the throne. What do I do, Jemma?"

"So far, no one made any kind of proposal, so I think you'll be okay. This ball is supposed to be for the people. It would be in poor taste to propose marriage to the princess," Jemma replied confidently. "Please try to relax. You won't do anyone any good if you run yourself into the ground."

Wanda smiled and embraced her friend. Jemma's hands rubbed up and down Wanda's back, soothing her and helping to calm her down. Wanda sighed; she was grateful to have a friend like Jemma who genuinely cared about her well-being. After her parents and then her brother died, many people were lost to her because they tried to take the throne. Jemma—from what she knew—was all that remained from the days of her parents.

"Thank you, Jemma. You are my most loyal and dearest friend and I love you dearly," Wanda said, pulling away and holding her at arms' length. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would probably drive yourself crazy," Jemma laughed. "But in sincerity, you would be just fine. You are the most brilliant, bravest and strongest person I know and I am so lucky to call you my friend. It is an honor to call you my friend. Your parents would be so very proud of you."

○○○

Claire's knees hurt as she scrubbed the floor of the Carters' large estate. Wiping the falling hair and sweat from her brow, Claire muttered to herself in frustration as she scrubbed harder and harder. She daydreamed of not performing another task for the Carters and telling them all to take their dirty laundry, their dirty dishes, their cleaning tools and their bare minimum payment and to shove it up their—

"Stop your daydreaming and get back to work!" Madame Carter yelled from the top of the stairs, her voice angry and filled with frustration.

"Yes, Madame. Sorry, Madame," Claire said as she rolled her eyes and scrubbed harder, continuing her frustrated muttering.

A knock on the door snapped Claire from her angry thoughts. Madame Carter walked down a few stairs and once again angrily called out to Claire.

"You heard that! Get the door!"

Claire sighed quietly—best not to show attitude—and stood up from the floor, her knees and back cracking as she moved, and walked to the door. Opening it, she came face-to-face with a tall and skinny man holding three very large boxes. The young man gave Claire a small smile and held out his arms, still holding the boxes.

"Good afternoon, miss. Delivery for a Madame Carter," he said. Claire nodded and held out her hands, taking the boxes from the young man.

"Thank you. Have a good day."

"You too, miss," he said, tipping his cap and turning to leave. Claire shut the door—with great difficulty brought on by the size of the boxes—and walked into the foyer, where she was met with Madame Carter and her sons who snatched the boxes from her greedily.

"Kindly take your dirty fingers off my suit," the eldest Carter boy, Christopher, said as he snatched a box from Claire's overfilled hands.

"You've spent the entire morning cleaning the floor. I better not see a single speck of dirt on my new suit," Nicholas, the youngest Carter boy said as he followed his brother's example and greedily snatched his box from Claire. Madame Carter sauntered over to Claire and took the third box, eyeing her suspiciously, and walked over to where her sons stood. The two boys opened their boxes and began to try on their new suits, completely ignoring the fact that Claire was still in the room.

Claire quickly looked away and bit the inside of her cheek to stop some inappropriate comment from seeping through her lips. She wasn't a prude or a virgin for that matter, but something about the male anatomy bothered her. Maybe it wasn't necessarily the anatomy but rather the attitudes of the human male that bothered her. Regardless of what it was, Claire tried her best to stay away from men, and instead sought and found comfort in the women that lived in the small town that she worked in.

"I hear the Princess Wanda is so...sexy. Can you imagine someone having someone as sexy as her on your arm? Think of all the things she could do to you—all the things she could do for you," Christopher said smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at his younger brother. Nicholas laughed and high-fived his brother, joining in on the joke. I bit my tongue and grimaced at the words they were saying. How could someone be so disrespectful to someone? She was a princess for god sakes! It was infuriating how they talked about women as if they were merely objects to be used as discarded once they were "used up."

Claire waited for the two boys to take their new suits off. They threw them carelessly back into their boxes and Claire took them and left the room, grumbling every bit of the way. She placed the boxes in each of their rooms, folding the suits and arranging them neatly inside each box, and left their rooms.

She went back to the foyer where she gathered her cleaning supplies, and as she was about to leave, Madame Carter's voice halted her.

"Oh, Miss Stowell? Please try to make yourself available tomorrow night. We're going out to the ball tomorrow night, and we need someone to watch the house."

"I'm sorry, Madame, but I was planning on going—"

"Oh, Claire please tell me you're not serious about going to the ball. I mean, it's so out of your way and you'll be working so very hard during the day. I can't imagine that you'd want to go to the ball. Perhaps it would be better if you stayed home tonight. There will be other balls," she said, with an air of sincerity that seemed...false.

Claire stayed quiet, feeling somewhat defeated. There was no fighting Madame Carter, regardless of what she wanted, and she did have a point...there would be other balls. Claire sighed and nodded, silently agreeing to her subtle order. She would in fact stay at the Carter manor tomorrow...and not go to the ball.

○○○

She was bored to say the least. The Carters left about an hour ago and she was so very bored. Claire sat in a chair, her head resting on her closed fist which sat against her knee. She finished her cleaning and the rest of her chores so there was nothing left for her to do other than "watch the house."

During the time that she sat in the empty and quiet manor, Claire felt the dull itch of want feasting away at her; she wanted to go to the ball. Regardless of the fact that Claire had been to many of the balls that the Princess hosted, she still had fun and was greatly upset that she was forbidden to go. That bothered her immensely. Madame Carter's words still hung around in her ears. They sounded polite and sincere but Claire knew in her heart of hearts that they were false, merely a way to say that she wasn't allowed to go to the ball without actually saying it.

The itch grew greater as time went on. She was tempted to jump onto her cart and ride straight away for the palace in the southern center of Sokovia: Novi Grad. The journey wouldn't take long, if she hurried. She may even make the end of the ball, have a quick dance, maybe grab a hot meal and a drink, perhaps find some company for the night...or a few nights if she was lucky before it was time for her to ride home.

She really could leave; no one would stop her, and no one could really punish her for going. The thought was quickly knocked from her mind. She couldn't go. If she disobeyed Madame Carter she'd be out of a job, a steady job, a job that she desperately needed to support herself. She sighed heavily and stood up from the chair and walking towards the doors leading to the back garden, she stepped outside into the cool nightly northern air and took a deep breath. She walked through the garden, enjoying the gentle breeze that blew by her and the sounds of the small nightly creatures that lurked in the foliage.

She always loved nature and being out in it brought her a sense of comfort that she always looked forward to. Her fingers brushed against the slightly overgrown leaves of the taller flowers and the low-hanging branches of the trees. Small torches lit her way through the garden, following the cobblestone path leading away from manor. The wind picked up as she walked, blowing past her harsher and harder than before, blowing her hair in front of her face. Claire looked around, feeling a little unnerved by the sudden change in air.

Multiple bright flashing lights of various colors quickly appeared in her face, blinding her for a few seconds, causing Claire to stumble back and trip over her feet. She fell down upon the cobbles, her one hand clutching the back of her head and the other covering her eyes to protect them from the barrage of lights that still proceeded to fire in her line of vision. The visual display only lasted a few seconds, and when Claire uncovered her eyes, seven people that she had never met before. They all looked at her with various looks and were arranged in a peculiar order that didn't make sense to Claire.

The first one, a man, had blonde hair and blue eyes and was dressed in a dark blue garment with a large white star in the center of chest and similar colored pants with a brown leather belt around his waist and high black boots. He stood tall, his broad arms clutching the sides of his belt by the front, and his smoldered face looked calm but serious.

A woman stood awfully close beside him. She had red hair like Claire's that was cut short in a bob and was curled slightly. Her dull green eyes bore into Claire with a ferocity that left her shuddering. Like the man's, her face was serious and her arms were crossed over her chest. She was dressed in all black, the only color coming from her being her hair.

The third man looked the most causal among them. His dark beard and long matching hair looked unkept and his clothes, a white shirt under a very light green vest and black pants, looked dirty and unwashed. He avoided looking at her at first, but when he did, he gave her a little smile causing his crystal blue eyes to sparkle in the limited light.

The next person was just...odd. He was tall, towering over the third man and the woman, had a long dirty blonde beard that was braided and beaded and long matching hair that looked matted and unwashed. He had dark bushy eyebrows and a scar running through his right eye, and his whole demeanor seemed intimidating, and yet, despite all this, he was dressed in pink skin-tight unitard and a lighter pink frilly tutu. Claire looked down and took note of his light pink almost white stockings and matching shoes. She would never outwardly question his get-up, but she didn't deny that it was odd.

The man after him was just as odd, though he didn't trump the previous one. Unlike the others, he was dressed in armor panted red and gold. He held his helmet under his arm, and Claire was able to see his black hair that was slicked back and small beard that circled his mouth. He looked smug as he looked over at Claire and his eyes kept darting over to the first man, as if he was itching speak. Something about him ticked Claire off and it bothered her that she already had such a dislike for this man that she hadn't even met yet.

The final two looked to be the most normal out of all of them, with exception to the red-haired woman. The first of the pair had short brown hair that stuck up at the front and a weathered face that was crinkled in a humorous expression that kind of confused Claire. His brows were knitted together but his face and stretched in a small grin. He was dressed in a red and black vest with his muscular arms resting bare and limp at his sides. His black pants looked a little tight, thought they didn't seem to bother him. Hitched on his back was a black quiver filled with black arrows and a long black bow. Something about him—maybe the weaponry—startled and unnerved Claire (which was kind of funny considering that he looked the least bit intimidating).

The man next to him made Claire want to wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle him for the rest of the night, maybe forever. He was short and stood with a slight slouch; his long and shaggy brown hair kept falling into his face. The minimal light in the garden shined and reflected off of his glasses that rested near the bridge of his nose and Claire smiled a little when she saw his hand come up to his face to push them back up. His purple shirt tucked neatly into his light brown pants made him look more professional than the rest of them (more so especially of the blonde man with the tutu). While the rest of them looked at her with intimidation and seriousness, this man tried his best to avoid looking at her, at the others, at...anything. His eyes picked a flower and focused on that, occasionally shifting his gaze to another flower or tree after a few seconds. He seemed shifty and nervous, and while that would normally trigger Claire's anxiety, she only wanted to do whatever she could to get him to relax.

Claire looked at each and every one of them, thousands upon thousands of thoughts running through her mind as she took in their appearance all over again. Part of her—the reasonable and logical part—was frightened at these mysterious strangers that just appeared out of nowhere in front of her in a house that wasn't their own. She was scared because most of them were men—big and strong looking men—and she was only a girl who could in no way shape or form fight them off if they wanted to do her harm. The first man took a few careful steps closer to her and held out his hand to her, looking at her with soft eyes. Reluctantly, she took his hand and he helped stand her back up, pulling at her gently before he spoke.

"Claire Stowell?" he asked raising a brow.

"Y-Yes..." Claire squeaked out, clearing her throat when she heard how coarse and rough it was. "Yes. What do you want?" She sounded more confident now as she straightened her back and folded her arms over her chest. The man turned to the others and shared with them a look that she couldn't see, and when he turned back to her, he had a bright smile that showed off his blindingly white teeth.

"It's your lucky day, Claire. We're the Avengers, and we go around helping people who need it, and tonight, we're here to help you."

"The Avengers?" she asked incredulously. "I thought you were just a myth along with other fairies and goblins."

"Have care how you speak," said the man in the pink tutu, taking a threatening step forward and pointing a finger in her direction, his face hard and unamused. "We are as real as you."

"Easy Thor," said the blonde man, steadying him. Thor stood back and relaxed just a tiny bit. "I'm sorry about him, but he's right Claire. We are very real, and between you and me, fairies and goblins are also quite real." He winked at her and stuck his hand out again. "My name is Steve Rogers, and this is Natasha, James but we call him Bucky, you know Thor, Tony, Clint, and Bruce." Natasha and Tony nodded their heads, Bucky gave her a small salute, Thor just stared at her with hard eyes, Clint smiled brightly and waved at her, and Bruce did the same, though his smile and wave was much smaller and less enthusiastic. Claire hesitantly waved back; her eyes uneasy as she looked at each of the Avengers.

"So, you're here to help me. Why? What can you do?" she asked them, primarily looking at Steve who seemed to be the leader among them. Steve walked forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"There's a grand ball happening in the center of Sokovia and you're here. We're here to get you there."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to go?" she asked him, placing her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow. Steve shrunk back a little and blushed the tiniest bit before he bounced back with another dazzling smile.

"We know you want to go, Claire," Natasha said, cutting Steve off and stepping forward.

"And how do you know?"

"Tasha knows all," Clint said, a big smirk plastered on his face. Natasha smiled and nodded, agreeing with him.

"If you let us, we can and will help you. Give us a chance," Steve said, almost begging.

Claire thought a moment; on the one hand, she did want to go the ball. She worked hard (which was an understatement) and she deserved to have a night of fun dressed all nice, eating delicious food that she would never be able to afford, and mingling with people that would never give her the time of day. On the other hand, however, Madame Carter and her disgusting sons were there and she didn't want to run into them, plus she was tired from working so hard and she really wanted to just go home and take a hot bath and curl up with Bicky, a good book, and a bottle of wine.

But with the way that Steve was looking at her, Claire couldn't help but feel any resistance that she had waver and crumble until she just rolled her eyes and growled out an affirmative response which excited Steve.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, jumping on the balls of his feet. "Alright, well we need to get you ready. So what will you need? Hmm...well you can't go dressed as if you just came out of the kitchen..."

"But I did—"

"Shush! Just cause you're accurate doesn't mean you're interesting!"

"Bold of you to assume that I think I'm interesting..." Claire muttered to herself, watching Steve start to pace and think in front of her and the other Avengers.

Hearing her, but deciding to ignore her, Steve said, "Let's see...what does she need?"

"She'll need a dress, Steve," Bucky said to him.

"Yeah, I know that, Buck." Bucky smirked and laughed to himself. "So dress, shoes, hair, make-up—"

"Woah! Make-up? Oh, hell no! No, I am not wearing make-up!" Claire exclaimed, getting slightly angry at Steve. She crossed her arms over her chest and stood taller.

"Okay, fine. No make-up," Steve sighed as he saw and crumbled under her death glare. He turned to the other Avengers and gathered them closer, speaking to them in hushed tones. Claire watched as she caught unintelligible whispers, head nods and a subtle hands-in before the Avengers broke apart.

"Alright, Claire. Are you ready?"

"I guess," she said, not impressed and in an unenthusiastic voice as she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, well, get ready Claire Stowell because you shall go to the ball!" Steve smiled threw up his hands and a flurry of sparkles and perhaps glitter rained down from above and onto them, getting stuck in the curls of Claire's red hair.

"Really Steve? 'You shall go to the ball?' That's what you went with? That's dumb as shit," Bucky said shrugging and rolling his eyes as her pressed a few fingers against his right temple.

"Shut up, Bucky," Steve said, not losing his smile and keeping his hands in the air. Steve clapped his hands together and shook them vigorously, making incoherent sounds. "Okay, let's start with the dress."

○○○

Claire turned, admiring her reflection in low light of the pond in the garden. Her dress was slim and form-fitting on the top half of her body, lightly squeezing and accentuating her breasts, and the lower half flowed freely. It puffed out at the bottom and danced in the nightly breeze. The dazzling green of her dress flattered her pale skin and fiery red hair and sparkled in the soft moonlight. Her hair was pinned up in a braid that hung over her right shoulder.

"You look beautiful, Claire," Bucky said with a sincere smile on his face.

"Even the Valkyrie couldn't match your beauty," Thor said, nodding his head and smiled too.

"Eh...I've seen better. But not worse," Natasha shrugged, though Claire blushed a little at the small smile that poked through the redhead's tough exterior.

"Come on, enough gawking," Steve cried as he waved his hands at his friends. "You need to get to the ball. Thor, you're up."

Thor stepped up and raised his hands into the air. His once blue and brown eyes were now completely white and glowing, and lightning came down from the sky in quick and furious flashes that circled and wrapped around his arms and body. Thor let out a low roar and shot the lightning out towards an empty space by the back gate, away from the others. When the lightning disappeared, a large and intricate golden carriage stood with four white winged horses, two men dressed in glorious golden armor, and a shorter man dressed in white with a golden cape. They all stood tall and proud and bowed when they saw Thor.

"Behold, Lady Claire. The royal carriage of Asgard."

The carriage lurched forward as the driver gave a shout. She flinched a bit at the loud crack of the whip and the neigh of the horses. Their multitudinous hooves beat thunderously down the dirty path taking her far from the Carters' manor. The carriage rolled quickly down the darkened road, past magical looking forests and other houses.

The entire journey didn't take nearly as long as Claire expected it to, and before she knew it, the golden carriage was rolling right through the exquisite and intricately designed palace gate and stopped right in front of the white marble steps. The driver got down, opened the door, and bowed as Claire got out. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered to him. He gave her a small smile and bowed again, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Claire turned from the carriage and started up the steps, grasping the ends of her dress as she walked so she wouldn't trip. She was dying a little by the time she made it to the top of the steps, and despite her work and chores and the fact the she exercised daily, she was still out of breath and her lungs burned as she took in large gulps of oxygen.

She entered the palace and followed the directions to the ballroom provided by the guards, and when she entered into the ball, she gave her name to the herald and marched down the stairs confidently. Arriving at the bottom, Claire filtered onto the large dancefloor and walked straight for the buffet table. She grabbed a small plate and filled it with food, though before she could dig in, a small voice spoke from behind her and a gentle finger tapped the back of her shoulder.

"I'm glad you could come," said the soft feminine voice from behind. Claire spun around and was met with a beautiful young woman with long brown hair and green eyes that sparkled as brightly as Claire's dress. Her light pale skin glowed under the lights of the ballroom chandeliers and her smile could succeed the power of over a hundred lighted chandeliers.

Claire blinked furiously and cleared her throat loudly when she realized she was staring at the young girl in front of her, blood rushing to her cheeks.

"I'm glad I did come," Claire said after a moment. "For a minute I was going to go home and just relax with my cat." She mentally slapped herself upon hearing her own words but the woman in front of her laughed and the sound was beautiful sound to Claire. "Do you come to these things often?"

"I kind of have to. My guardians keep using these things as a way to find me a husband. It's really annoying."

"Then why don't you just stop going?"

"Don't get me wrong, I always have fun; I love to dance and to mingle among the different people, it's just having to talk to every eligible bachelor that breathes regardless of age or personality. It's exhausting." Claire felt bad for the mystery woman in front of her, but her small smile put her at ease. Something inside her stirred whenever she would smile up at Claire, something that she never once experienced, but didn't object to. She didn't know what possessed her to continue talking to the young woman standing in front of her, but she did. They talked for a while, enjoying each other's company, but when she offered Claire to take a walk with her, Claire couldn't help but accept.

The woman led her through the empty part of the palace until they ended up inside a dark secret garden, the only source of light being bright moonlight shining overhead through a small hole in the ceiling that was lined with mirrors. Claire could just barely make out the stone arches that lined that walls of the circular room. Large mirrors lined the walls, reflecting the image of Claire and her companion. The light streamed down from the ceiling mirrors and bounced off the ones on the walls, effectively lighting up the room that they sat in. She walked forward until she sat in the middle of the ground and gently touched the delicate petals of the flowers surrounding her. Claire walked over to her and sat beside her, carefully watching her.

"My mother used to bring me here when I was young and couldn't sleep. She would sit down right her and pull me into her lap, softly singing an ancient lullaby and telling me that everything would be okay; that there was no such thing as monsters or whatever plagued my nightmares. Now, whenever I need to feel close to her, I come here and try to remember the words of song she would sing to me," the woman said in a sad voice. Claire's heart broke as she saw the small tear that rolled down her face. Leaning in slowly, Claire wiped the tear away, causing the woman's bright green eyes to look up at her. Claire suddenly pulled away and cleared her through, blushing profusely at their previous closeness.

"I'm really sorry about your mom," Claire said, looking down at the grass beneath her, plucking few of the tiny leaves and playing with them in her hand. She felt the woman's eyes on her, sizing her up, but Claire ignored her, suddenly feeling depressed. Hearing the woman next to her talk about her family, made Claire think about her own, and the thoughts weren't pleasant.

"It's okay. It's been a while, so it doesn't bother me anymore. I'm used to people leaving me."

Claire's heart broke for this young woman, and before she knew it, she scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and into her chest. She didn't object to the sudden and unexpected closeness, but instead snuggled into the warmth that Claire provided.

"So, you're the princess, huh?" Claire asked after a minute of just holding her. She felt her stiffen and her green eyes looked up at her, eyes wide and holding fear.

"How did you know?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Claire laughed a little and snuggled the princess closer into her body and said, "I saw your portrait in one of the hallways that you led me down. And I gotta say, you look much better in person, though the portrait is very beautiful." Wanda laughed and nuzzled her face into the material of Claire's dress and groaned. Claire laughed and ran her fingers through the downed parts of Wanda's hair, taking comfort of her in her arms. "I have to ask; how long were you going to wait before you told me?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Whenever I tell people who I am, they get all weird around me. I guess I didn't want that happening with you."

"But we just met about an hour ago."

"That's true, but you can't deny that there's something between us; some force or otherworldly connection that pulls us closer ever since you walked in. Do you not feel it?" Wanda asked, sounding sad and a little desperate? Claire melted on the inside. She did feel whatever connection was between her and Wanda, but...Wanda was a princess and was entitled to marry a prince. Even if there was some way that they could be together, Claire wasn't rich. She didn't have any lands or a title that would grant her some sort claim. She was a servant that worked in the lower town and lived alone in an old country house that she inherited from her family that she was barely holding on to, with a dog and a horse.

Wanda was hurting and Claire so desperately want to extinguish that hurt. She wanted to curl up next to Wanda after a hard day of working for the Carters' and fall asleep to her gentle fingers running through her hair, working out the physical knots that formed in her hair whenever she put it up and the knots of stress that appeared after a long day of work. She wanted to hear Wanda express her love to her again and again as they laid down in front of the roaring fire, Bicky running and jumping over them happily, Claire's book pushed off to the side and the bottle of wine half empty. She wanted to wrap her arms around Wanda as she slept, placing soft and loving kisses against the bare skin of her shoulder, feeling joy at her soft groggy giggles. She wanted...Wanda. She wanted Wanda, and part of her felt weird for saying this; she just met the princess and—while this surprised her—she was above immediately taking the young princess to bed despite her feelings. She wanted—no! needed to get to know her better, regardless of the knowledge that literally nothing could happen between them.

"Of course, I feel it, Princess. I'm not incapable of feeling, I just..." Claire sighed and ran a hand roughly through her pinned hair. "No matter what we feel, we can't be, you know? You're a princess and I'm...I'm nobody. You deserve someone of noble birth."

"I deserve someone special and kind. Someone that puts my best interests first. Someone that loves me for me, not my wealth or what they can gain from my kingdom. Do you know what I mean? I'm sick and tired of being used over and over again. I just...I just want to be normal," Wanda cried, nuzzling herself deeper into Claire's chest, brushing against her soft and firm breasts.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I really am—"

"Wanda. My name is Wanda. I'm tired of people treating me differently because I'm a princess. Please, just...call me Wanda. I need one person in my life to treat me like a regular person."

"I'm sorry, Wanda. Really I am. You deserve so much better, so much that would be so easy for me to provide, but...there's a lot of baggage that comes with me. Every day I'm faced with the very real possibility that I may lose my home. I have to get up extremely early to ride into town and work from sun-up to after midnight, and even then I don't get a lot of work because no one wants to pay for another servant. My only consistent costumer abuses me day in and day out, belittling me every chance they get. I wouldn't want that life for you or for anyone. Believe me, I want you more than anything, but unfortunately, you're...not right for me."

A few stray tears ran down Claire's face after she said those words. It pained her greatly to say them, but that didn't change the truth behind them. Wanda couldn't be affiliated with Claire's stupid life; she would soon grow tired of it and her and leave, going back to the life the she has now. She'll grow to hate her and won't forgive her for dragging her into this lame life. Claire didn't want to ruin Wanda's life, so she had to push her feelings aside, and think of what was best for her instead what she wanted.

"I don't care about all that. I know we barely know each other, but I care about you. I realize what I would be giving up if I went with you, but it's what I need. I need something simple; I want something simple. I don't care about the hardships that may come; I just want you." Claire's heart was breaking. Her speech was apparently counterproductive, and only assisted in making Wanda want her more.

"Wanda, you're the only heir. You...can't abdicate your throne."

"No, I can't, but I can fight for my right to choose my partner, my companion, my love. And I choose you. I'll always choose you."

"Wanda, you don't even know me! We've literally just met! You don't even know my name!" Claire was crying harder now. It was difficult to keep coming up with excuses as to why they shouldn't be together.

"I know that I feel a deeper connection to you that I've never felt with anyone. Not even my twin brother, Pietro." Wanda pulled away and looked deep into Claire's purple eyes and placed a hand on her cheek, softly caressing her with her thumb. She smiled a little, looked down, and bit her lower lip. "What is your name?"

Claire laughed and nuzzled her nose against Wanda's forehead. "Claire. Claire Stowell."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Claire Stowell. I'm Wanda Maximoff," Wanda said, holding her hand out. Claire clasped Wanda's hand gently in hers and shook slowly.

"It's an honor."

"So...what do we do? Where do we go from here?" Wanda asked, intertwining her fingers with Claire's.

Claire felt her resolve waver. She knew she needed to keep fighting Wanda's advances despite the searing pain of her own desires. Sighing deeply, she looked down into Wanda's piercingly beautiful green eyes, and crumbled. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, milady."

○○○

Wanda walked Claire and herself out of the hidden garden and back into the ballroom where the ball was still in full swing. She led the redhead up the grand staircase and towards the throne. Guests down below stared, whispered, and pointed at them as they ascended. Claire became self-conscious as the incredulous whispers reached her ears. Her face reddened and she quickly looked away, fixing her eyes onto their conjoined hands, unknowingly looking to Wanda for comfort and inspiration.

Wanda stopped them in front of a small balcony, and looking into her eyes, Wanda let go of Claire's hand, and stepped forward. She raised her arms as she gathered the attention of her guests who kept murmuring questioningly to themselves. Anticipation and tension hung thickly in the air, choking Claire as she thought of all the negative outcomes that would certainly arise from Wanda's announcement.

"Attention people of Sokovia," Wanda exclaimed. "In recent years, there has been great pressure for me to marry and fully ascend the throne. Well, after a long time of searching for the perfect suitor, I am pleased to announce that I have selected my partner." There was a loud roar of applause and cheering from amongst the guests, and Claire couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion wash over her at the reaction that Wanda received from her people. Wanda turned towards her and waved her over. Claire slowly followed her subtle command and walked up towards the balcony to stand with Wanda, slipping her hand into hers. Wanda smiled and blushed slightly before she turned back towards the crowd. "Good people of Sokovia, I present to you, Claire Stowell: my choice of a suitor."

Wanda turned towards Claire, not waiting for the reaction of her people, and got down on one knee, still holding onto her hand. Claire's relaxed face fell into one of shock and surprise, and tears flowed and spilled from her eyes. Her free hand came up and covered her mouth, trying to hide the surprise.

"Claire Stowell, I know this is all so new and that we just met, but I know what I know. In the short time that I've known you, I've felt more with you than with others my whole life. I know that I want you, Claire. If you'll have me, I will work hard to right the wrongs that society has bestowed upon you. So, Claire, will you marry me?"

"Wanda, this is all too fast. Like you said, we just met."

"We don't have to get married right away. We can take our time, get to know each other before we rush into anything, but...say you'll be mine," Wanda begged, looking at Claire with big doe like eyes that made Claire weak at the knees.

"Wanda, I will marry you," Clairesaid, tears streaming down her face. Wanda leaped up from the floor andembraced Claire tightly. They ignored the applause and cheering from belowthem, only enjoying each other's company. They held each other tightly, runningtheir hands through each other's pinned hair. They smiled into each other'sembrace and Wanda nuzzled deep into Claire's warmth, finding joy, peace, andsecurity that she hadn't felt in a long, long time. Claire held Wanda andgiggled softly as Wanda buried into her, finally finding a purpose to herpreviously shitty life. They didn't have their happily ever after yet, but theywould soon. Both of them were sure about that.