A Beast of a Prince
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, the tales of heroic princes were worth as much as gold. Like a plague, they spread from town to town. It seemed as if every day, on a different corner of the world, there was some son of a king rescuing an entire kingdom, all while saving a helpless princess. Weddings between these heroes and their "damsels in distress" were being held almost every day.
At the same time, there was a prince who lived in his own castle, though not so shiny. He was not like the ones mentioned greatly in that time and age. No, this prince was different than the others.
He wasn't even a real prince; a distant relative of unknown royalty.
He did not spend his time hunting down ogres and dragons.
He had never rescued a helpless maid.
He barely left the grounds.
He was not kind or generous, nor clever or patient; his temper was absolutely horrible, in fact.
No, this prince was just not charming at all.
His name was Louis.
It was a cold winter's night in the small countryside. A strong storm had blown in from up north, covering everything in its path with a thick blanket of snow. The inhabitants of the petit village, located at the end of a forest, had locked up their animals in their stalls, closed the shutters tightly, locked all doors and sat by their warm fires, waiting for the blizzard to pass. As the night fell into place, all were in their beds, nice and warm.
All, except for an old woman.
She was a stranger to this town. She had to be, for any and all natives to this region knew of the storm and wisely so, were know locked away safely in their homes. Wearing a dark green cape, its hood covering her head, she braved the below zero tempest as she made her way into the forest. Her short body sunk into the deep snow with every step she took, yet she continued on her path.
The elder had made it to the center of the white woods, where a pair of giant, iron gates stood. As heavy as they seemed, they opened easily at her touch. The woman continued walking until she finally made it to the entrance of the castle.
Prince Louis was sitting in his favorite chair, taking in the heat of the fire in his den.
This was a recent, yet daily routine. At exactly the strike of ten, whatever, and whoever he was occupied with, whether a servant or anyone of seeming higher importance, he would leave pending. He would make his way down into his private room, sit in front of his finely carved fireplace...and think. Any servant who possessed a working mind knew never to disturb him at this time, for even though this was when he was most calm, the smallest annoyance could quickly change that.
So, that night, like any other, he sat there, warm and undisturbed, gazing deeply into the flames, when the sound of multiple knocks at the door reached his ears.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
He sat still in his chair, his mind attempting to comprehend the sounds he had just heard.
Knocking. At the door. Someone was knocking at the door.
It couldn't be possible.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Looking backwards towards the main entrance, he thought it might have been loose branches brought by the wind or maybe even hail.
Curiosity blended together with aggravation. He shook his head, leaned his head back into the soft cushion of seat, closed his eyes, and attempted to reclaim his relaxed state.
Common sense had already satisfied his wonder: no one is at the door. Not unannounced. Not at this hour. Not in the middle of a storm.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
He sighed in frustration.
"Mrs. Potts!" he called out, determined to reach the end of all of this. "Mrs. Potts!"
A rather burly, white-haired woman, many years his elder, appeared in the den while wiping her hands in her apron. "Yes, sir?"
"Why have you delayed in answering the door?"
A puzzled look formed on the housekeeper's face. "The door, sir?"
"Yes, the door," he replied, clearly annoyed. "Go open it and check it!"
Still unsure as to whether or not she heard her master's command correctly, Mrs. Potts made her way towards the main entrance. Why the prince would want the door checked was beyond her. She has not heard any knocks. Regardless, her order was clear...somewhat. Tightening the apron around her waist and placing a firm hand atop the small, pink hat on her head, she pulled open one of the two doors.
WHOOSH!
The strong winds of the blizzard ripped right past the elderly woman, almost throwing her back into the hall. Mrs. Potts, forced to take shelter behind the wooden door, was tempted to abandon her task, but out of faithful desire to obey her master...
Snow. Snow. More snow.
Nothing more and definitely no less.
Satisfied, Mrs. Potts moved to shut the door closed, lest the storm move into the castle corridor. Moving against the wind, however, proved to be a task too much for the delicate housekeeper. She pushed as hard as she possibly could, but the door would under no circumstances move.
All of a sudden, the job became less strenuous. With a final, long push, the door was back in its rightful place.
Mrs. Potts rushed to place the lock on the entrance before turning to face the reason behind that sudden ease of force.
"Oh," she sighed, "thank you, Lumiere."
The tall, lean man who stood at her side patted his sleeves and shoulders, freeing his clothes of the snow clinging to them.
"Madame, if you wanted fresh air, there certainly must be better ways of getting it."
"No, Lumiere," she started with a shake of her head. "I was only-"
"W-What is g-g-going on h-here?"
Both faced the direction of the harsh whisper and found another man make their ways towards them.
"Icicles are p-prac-ctically forming on the lamps with how c-cold it is h-here. W-w-what happened?"
"Cogsworth?"
"W-what, Lumiere?" whispered the castle's majordomo, his arms wrapped tightly across his front as he shivered.
"Why are you whispering?"
"N-now I kn-know you b-both know that the Master is r-resting right now." The clicking of his shivering teeth blended in somewhat harmoniously with his hushed words. "If he should be disturbed-"
"Mrs. Potts!" called the voice in the den. Like a roar, it echoed through the main hallway, startling those in it.
"Oh, now we've done it!" moaned Cogsworth.
"Calm yourself, Cogsworth. He wishes only to hear my findings." With that, Mrs. Potts made her way into the den, the two servants following behind her.
"And?" asked Louis, annoyance ringing clear in his voice.
"There was nothing there, sire."
The three watched from far as their prince's shoulder rose and fell slightly as he sighed deeply. This was not a good sign. Recently, small things like these never failed to boil his blood.
Silence existed within the hall, lingering momentarily before broken.
"Master," began the elderly woman in a cheerful tone, "your fire is a-blazing, yet," she quickly walked towards the grand chair and into the young man's line of sight, "one can tell the chill made its way here. Why don't you let Mrs. Potts fix you a nice, warm bowl of soup. It'll take those shivers away." She reached out and placed her hand on Louis' arm. A sincere smile formed on her face; the lines in her skin stretched fell into place perfectly, as if this was her natural look.
His shoulder quickly rose under her touch to shrug away from hand. His gaze did not leave the flames before him.
"I want nothing."
Hand falling back at her side, her smile melted away. She looked over to her fellow workers near the den entrance; both sported the same semblances as she.
This time, it was Lumiere who spoke up.
"Master," he said in a cheerful tone, so to not betray his true feelings, "maybe a cup of tea would do you well. It is rather cold in this place."
Mrs. Potts ran with the idea. "Yes, of course. Tea is an absolute necessity in times like these." She quickly began to make her way into the corridor. "I'll go fix up a pot right now and be back in no t-"
"I said, I want NOTHING!" The young prince's voice bellowed fiercely through the room, once again succeeding in startling the three. It caused Mrs. Potts to stop in her path.
The lingering waves in the air cut through her heart, almost causing her to shiver. It was a chill much colder than anything produced by any storm. Looking up, she could do nothing but sigh as her comrades expressed the same sorrow in their eyes.
Cogsworth silently wished for nothing but to retreat from the room. He loved his master, undoubtedly, but the tone in his voice made clear his desire to be left alone. Lumiere, however, was determined to not be so quick in leaving.
"Master-"
"Leave. All of you," his voice rasped, "leave."
"Master, please, let us help you to-"
"I said, NO!" All three flinched to the sound of furniture scraping the floor as their Prince stood up from his chair and faced them.
There was a look in his eyes which brought forth both pity and sadness in the hearts of those there.
Louis' eyes shone with anger.
Anger.
Frustration.
Pain.
"All of you - Leave. Now." His voice seethed with fury. His chest shook from both cold and emotion as it rose and fell with every breath. "LEAVE!" was his final yell before collapsing once again into his chair.
"But-"
Lumiere felt a hand upon his arm; it belonged to Cogsworth. The way that his head shook, his shoulders sagged, his eyes shone with sorrow - they all spoke louder than words themselves.
They had tried their best. It was now time to leave.
"Come now, dear." Mrs. Potts was now at Lumiere's other side, her touch also attempting to provide comfort.
It was time to leave.
With a defeated and mournful sigh, the faithful servant took one last glance towards his master.
There existed no beverage or fabric that could thaw the ever-growing ice in his soul.
Here's Part 1! Hope you enjoy it so far.
I know that sources say that the Prince's name is Adam, but since I didn't know that while writing this and well, since this does take place in France, I thought the name Louis (pronounced Louie) fit well.
Expect Part 2 very soon.
Please feel free to leave reviews. They would be greatly appreciated! :)