I've had this idea for a while, but the gist was to do a streamlined story version of the music video for Ariana Grande and John Legend's cover of "Beauty and the Beast." Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Belle, the Beast, or the other characters from "Beauty and the Beast." I do not also own the song and lyrics from Ariana Grande and John Legends take on the song. Just FYI.
It starts out as a simple night. The sky is black and the air is cold. But the castle covering half of the open valley isn't; it's hidden from what commoners and peasants perceive in their eyes. Ornate stone gates, a frozen garden of roses, and a grand maze big enough for a village – they're all part of the grandeur. As the castle grows in size, so does the air of tension and magic in the atmosphere. Something important is happening tonight – it's happening here.
From the open tower door, a force of power stands with longing. She looks out to the fields of frozen memory and lets loose a hymn from her lips, one only she and others like her can hear. As it reverberates back to her, she finds herself now standing in a different balcony, and with a mirror firmly planted in front of her face. Light suddenly erupts from the surface and travels throughout the room. She swirls and turns, her form a dress of velvet red. Like an actor in a stage play, her part has begun.
Tale as old as time. True as it can be.
She moves down from the steps, while the light shoots around what can now be seen as a ballroom. Suddenly, servants of the rose appear and flank her. Carrying a single petal each, the figures move closer until she is entrapped in their reach. The shape where they all are is the rose itself, immuring but right where it needs to be.
Barely even friends. Then somebody bends, unexpectedly.
While the rose continues to take hold in the center of the ballroom, a nuanced sound escapes from the piano. Another being is there are well; he is dressed in a black coat and pants, cuffs on his arms with gold protruding out. His fingers are barely tapping the keys, and yet a symphony of soul comes from the instrument. A voice is coming from him, though this one is crisper and different.
Just a little change. Small to say the least.
The pedals and their wielders lift up, one by one, in a spectacular motion until all that is left is her. She looks up at the chandelier and keeps her position, but her ears are looking directly at him. Her body braces for what seems like the hundredth time.
Both a little scared, neither one prepared.
He plucks at the keys, passion in his soul as he continues to drum out the notes. She finally caves in and wraps around herself, while the petals sway and shift in their motions. Both let loose a soothing voice at the same time, and it sounds as if silk could speak.
Beauty and the Beast.
The doors of the ballroom open, but both know who are entering even without looking. A woman in gold, a beast in blue, and a collection of living objects and utensils. The forces of beauty and song know these are the people they've been waiting for, the match they've been betting their entertainment on. With renewed vigor, both continue their motions with excitement creeping up.
Ever just the same. Ever a surprise.
She pushes her arms out, and the petals fall back from her force. When her arms retract so do the figures holding up the ruby red pieces.
Ever as before, and ever just as sure.
While he drives down a sophisticated rhythm, the petals lift up and move around, their moment now a set of loose circles. Far from their motions, the couple faces each other and extend their hands, quickly grasped with care by the significant other.
As the sun will rise, woah.
The two now take action and twirl to the invisible rhythm they themselves cannot hear. The pianist is lost in the intensity of the moment, yet he can see in his mind just how much they are dancing. From far away, the clock and candelabra smile at the marvelous act before them. If only they knew what was going on right next to them.
She lets loose her voice once again, but this time it is something indistinguishable – a safe medium between the longing and the excitable. She clutches her arms whilst watching the two waltz down the ballroom floor towards her. In the heat of the moment, she can't help but smile inside for their happiness.
Ever just the same, oh.
The petal dancers are back, this time swirling in a group before once again crisscrossing around her. She closes her eyes and unleashes a longing moan of a pure symphony, traveling into the ears of the pianist himself.
And ever a surprise, yeah.
He leans forward and then back, before starting again with his eyes closed and his mouth opening into a wail of mellowed sound. The cry strikes up towards the ceiling, right near the chandelier over the heads of the oblivious occupants.
Ever as before, and ever just as sure.
He pumps more energy into the notes before looking at her. She is front and center of the petal figures, their forms enclosed in a crimson mass right behind her dress. Singing once more, she closes her eyes and braces for the energy present in the already-occupied room. The petals lift up and she clutches her arms, viewing the rest of the action for herself.
As the sun will rise, oh-oh-ooh
The beast takes the girl's hand and twirls her around using it, then catches her frame and begins to waltz equally with her in the other direction. At the same time, the figurine walks away from her petals, their own motions causing them to swarm away into pairs. When the pianist hits the notes with energic fervor, the dancers are suddenly in rows of a ruby-red "X" and hold themselves up. The couple is already swaying, and soon the petals and the pianist follow suit with them.
Tales as old as time, a-a-away
Both sit at the piano, him looking directly at her while she presses into herself. A flurry of emotion hits as the specters of blue and gold dance behind them.
Tune as old as song, oh
She cries out, and all of the volumes kept within her begins to crash out of her body. If it weren't for them being kept apart, the dancers and the objects might actually stop to be shocked at the power of her voice.
Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change. Learning you were wrong.
Both crescendo into a friendly waltz and climax into a twirl underneath. The pianist and the singer sing in union as their vocal range grows in power, traveling throughout the room like an addictive contagion.
Certain as the sun. Certain as the sun.
She leans back against the piano and lets her voice escape once more. He tries to catch up, and amidst of all of this, sparkling lights pepper around the various chandeliers to light up the newly arrived darkness in the room. In the corner, the duo swirls and catch each other, oblivious to the new sources of light around them.
Rising in the east. Tale as old as time.
As the lights get intense, so does her motions. His piano is heading to a stop, but he's too entranced by the familiarity of her work to quit now.
Song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast.
The lights are on their faces, now, and they can't stop. They can't stop until the song's over. The excitement is too much.
Tale as old as time. Song as old as rhyme.
She looks at him with that same longing she had before. He gazes at her with the same determination he's been pouring into the notes. With the light on their faces and the unknowing spectators in the background, it seems like the perfect place to come together.
Beauty and the Beast.
But that idea is too malleable, too unstable for the moment. Here and now belongs to the dancing couple, who embrace after a twirl that has their colors clashing like fire and ice. The spectators' voices drop into a low hum, followed by a soft moan.
Woah a-a-ay.
It's one last move, and the singing and the combination of notes shoot off before the beast and his love stop near the door, walking slowly with their hands together.
Beauty and.
She is hidden, covered by the roses once again. He sings his last ballad, and from the notes, it's easy to tell the song is about to end. Yet he goes out on a high note, his face full of emotion. When the petals fly away, all that is left is red dust.
Beauty and the Beast.
The ballroom soon coalesces into its' former self of dark shadows and faded glory. She is collected, walking to the familiar balcony and gazes out upon the even familiar landscape outside. Gripping herself, she lets out one more tune while looking into the night sky.
He is gone, but she can sense him. The dance may be over and conflict will soon come to the castle, but when love conquers all, there will be many more dances and parleys, happy moments and events. And when those happen, they will be there. He will punch his piano into a symphony, and she will sing her soul out into a ballad of love.
Closing her eyes, she smiles and leaves the castle. The only thing left in her wake is a single rose, lying discarded on the floor but with the greatest care. Someone will eventually find it, and when they do, it will tell a tale only two knew about.
A tale of those who watched love happen…and might do it for themselves.