After the incident with the wolves, the weeks spent in the Beast's elegant castle crept along like a sickly turtle for the trapped mademoiselle, yet fluttered past like a snowflake trapped in a flurry for the rest of the castle's inhabitants, the Beast included. The pair had barely spoken since the tender moment they had shared before the fireplace, and the Beast was becoming more and more anxious as time went on . He spent his evenings pacing before the rose in his sanctuary, the West Wing, and plotted a series of contrived conveniences in which Belle would fall head over heels for the man beneath the fur without a care in the world.
Despite her immediate disrespect and disobedience the minute she became his "guest", the Beast had quickly developed a sort of compassion for the young woman. She was headstrong yet kind- she offered herself as a replacement for her ailing father in a heartbeat, making the old man's cries of "No Belle!" sound much closer to "Noble!". Besides that, she was gorgeous. Her silky brown hair cascaded down her back in waves when she wore it down, while her stunning hazel eyes shone like jewels beneath her thick black eyelashes. Her lips were plump and luscious, and whatever she wore subtly showed off her lithe, supple figure. She had an air of class about her that made wooing her seem more daunting than attempting to gain the attentions of a common ditzy blonde. He loved to hear her gush over books at dinner, and every time he was near her he seemed to learn something.
This was his last chance- the rose was wilting quickly, and he seemed to have no other choice. He seemed to like that.
Out of fear of getting into more trouble with her captor, Belle confined herself to her designated chamber with the company of Madame Armoire and the occasional book that Lumiére and Cogsworth had managed to sneak in from the master's long abandoned library.
"I'm sure he won't notice, Cherie," the candlestick assured her in a gleeful tone. "I haven't seen the master go in there in ages."
The books were dusty and unloved by their true owners, but Belle was happy to have something new to read and learn about. Over the course of two weeks she managed to tackle dozens of classic novels and study a handful of exotic languages to the point of basic sentence structure and comprehension of simple stories. She received breakfast and lunch from Mrs. Potts as she made her rounds through the castle and attended dinner with the Beast as per his "request", making this the only time in which she made contact with her captor.
The Beast encouraged the others to play along with this, asking that they not pressure her into anything and let things happen naturally, to cultivate the best results. Now he realized that this may not be the best plan.
One evening he decided to consult Lumiére, the supposed expert in such matters.
"How can I get this to work?" he grumbled impatiently. The Beast had curled into a wolf-like position, his tail flicking occasionally as he stared at the snowflakes peppering his window. The normally gleeful candlestick now stood worriedly beside the rose, rubbing his two tea candle "hands" together nervously.
"Sir, with all due respect, one cannot expect a maiden to fall for a man she rarely sees. You barely even speak to her at dinner- why, just this evening you merely asked her to pass the pepper, and that was all! No romantic gestures, no suave suggestions, just pepper!"
"I had nothing else to go on!"
"Ask about her reading! Compliment her gown! Her grace! The lovely shade of her eyes! Her voluptuous bosom!"
The Beast stared at the candlestick with a fire blazing in his cold blue eyes.
"Just a joke, my lord! Ask her what she likes to do! Her morals, her dreams, anything but a common condiment!"
The Beast tugged humbly at the back of his neck, realizing that he had essentially been allowing the rose to wilt without making any attempt to reverse the enchantment. He changed his position on the rug to a more comfortable one and began to brainstorm.
"Leave me," he requested the candle stick. "I-I'll think of something. If I screw up again tomorrow night, then we may have to assemble a new course of action."
"Of course, my lord." Lumiére hopped off the table and scurried his way out of the West Wing as best as he could, having no legs with which to scurry.
Bundled in a heavenly shroud of quilts and downy comforters, Belle settled back in her bed and stared sleepily at the silk scarves draped over her bed. The castle was dead silent, save for the snores of Madame Armoire in the corner of the room. The maiden stretched back and pulled one of the many feather pillows on her bed around her head. She lay there with her eyes closed and began to doze daintily. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she drifted off peacefully.
She awoke the next morning to the smell off cranberry scones, which had been lovingly (not to mention miraculously) placed on the nightstand beside her by Mrs. Potts and her entourage. Looking out the window as she ate, she admired the lovely winter weather outside, complete with fresh powdery snow, and followed her impulse to spend the day outside.
"Mooooooorniiiiiing," yawned Madame Armoire, interrupting Belle's thoughts.
"Do you think it would be fine if I stayed outside for a bit?"
"Of course, dear- just be sure not to catch cold." She opened her drawers to reveal a rose red cloak laced with fine cream-colored fur.
"Don't go too far now. Staaaaaaay in the gardennnnn…" Her words trailed off as she drifted back to sleep.
Belle gathered the cloak around her lithesome frame and selected a few friends to join her for the day- Don Quixote, Dante's Inferno, and The Little Sea-Maiden, to name a few. She tied her hair back in the usual fashion and made her way towards the heavy double doors that lead to the hall.
The Beast had plans outside in the powdery snow as well, but they had a less innocent purpose. Over the years he had taken to hunting for his meals as opposed to eating all of his meals in the dining hall. At Mrs. Potts' request, he still had his dinners there, as to retain some semblance of humanity, but there was no way to staunch his, well, beastlike thirst for blood. This was shown by the myriad of different carcasses that filled the West Wing, and was part of the reason why he did not want Belle to go in there. His prey varied from the deer that dotted the hills around his home, to the occasional small rabbit or other rodent of some sort.
He crept out of the castle on all fours and started towards his usual hunting spots, but was taken aback when he caught the gentle scent of his "guest" in the air. He trotted towards the source of the scent and found Belle sitting by herself in the garden, wrapped in a fine cloak and deeply engrossed in a book.
He considered whether or not to approach her.
He feared frightening her.
He feared being trapped in this form forever more.
"Er, good morning, Belle."
She looked up, startled at first, but her expression soon subsided into a gentle smile.
"Oh- good morning. I didn't expect to find you out here. I assumed you spent most of your time in your quarters."
"It depends on the weather and my mood."
"It is a lovely day out," she remarked, looking up at the lightly cloudy sky above her and shielded her eyes from the stray rays of sun with one hand.
"Y-Yes. It is nice."
"You don't mind me being out here, do you?"
"No no," he said softly as he slowly sunk down beside her and took a seat on the hard marble bench. "The castle is your home. You may go anywhere you wish-"
"Except the West Wing."
"That didn't stop you before," he snapped.
Silence.
The Beast regretted his rude tone.
"I, er, hope to see you at lunch," he hurriedly mumbled. He rose to his hind legs and made his way stiffly towards the forest.
She has no respect for me whatsoever, he thought as he crashed through the forest in anger. What is love without respect? He ripped through a poor tree that happened to be in his way in a blind rage and continued on. Christ, what is ANY relationship without respect? My servants all respect me and all seem perfectly happy despite our circumstance. What must I do to receive the same treatment from her?
Belle was secretly happy to see him go. Saving her life was one thing, but the rest of his actions and unruly temper were another. Still, she had to admit he was adorable when he stumbled through his words around her. Maybe having lunch in the dining hall wasn't such a bad idea.
.AN. Thank you for reading! This is my first fic of this... type, so please bear with me. I am trying to make it as tasteful as possible without diving straight into 'lemon' territory, but according to TV Tropes, lemons can be done tastefully as well. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome- I like getting emails from people other than college recruiters. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. .AN.
