Hello and thank you for taking the time to open this story! I'm so new to this that I initially published it without an author's note. Still getting used to the workings of this site. This is my first ever published story and the first bit of writing of done in a very, very long time. I'm highly self-conscious about it, so reviews with helpful feedback are most welcome and incredibly appreciated! And without further ado, Listen...
The Beast was locked away, a shame and a curse on his family. The royal son seemed to never have existed. But a few remembered. A few new the truth. An innocent man condemned for the crimes of another.
The man whom the Beast suffered for kept up appearances of blamelessness. He bided his time. He watched the royal family scramble to cover the scandal and name a new heir. He knew there was only one choice. And so he waited.
The stars shone brilliantly in the sky. Once, they gave comfort and joy, their light a gift. Now they seemed as distant and cold as everything else in his life. His room, nay his cell, sat atop one of the many towers in the place he had always called home. It was not a place he'd ever been familiar with before. Now it was the only place he knew.
At first, he had raged. The meager furniture in the room had been destroyed. One morning he'd awoken and somehow it had all been removed, a soft pallet of blankets and furs all that replaced them. He'd been about to rip those to shreds too when he caught a scent. One very near and dear to him and he knew who had brought this small comfort.
Once the constant rage had begun to ebb, he would make attempts to speak to whomever it was that brought his meals. They never spoke. No matter how he begged or cried in desperation, they remained silent. Only once was he able to elicit any noise from them.
After days of getting nowhere with pleading, he'd thrown himself bodily at the door. His keen hearing picked up on the gasp from the person on the other side, and somehow he could tell it was a woman. He called out the only name he thought could possibly be there, the one who had brought him the pallet, but there was still no reply.
He listened as there was a beat of silence outside the door, then soft footsteps fading on the stairs. He threw back his head and howled.
A chill ran up her spine. She paused on the steps, her hand resting on the wall. She waited to see if the feeling would pass through the stone again. After a moment, she continued on her way. She had no idea who was in the tower, or how she'd come to be the one responsible for tending to them, and she felt guilty for feeling grateful.
It was not easy to get any sort of position for a girl like her, and the fact that she had been sought out for this job was highly irregular. She couldn't help feeling sorry for whomever was locked away in so lonely a place, but felt there must be a reason for it. It was a failing of hers to sympathize with everyone. She wasn't naïve or stupid, but her kind heart had been taken advantage of.
She brushed aside her musings as she entered the kitchen, done with her chores for now. Though it wasn't part of her responsibility, she would often help the old cook who was head of the servant's kitchen. Though not as grand as the royal kitchen where the meals for the royal family and all their fancy parties were made, this kitchen had charm and homey appeal.
She replaced her tray on it's proper shelf and washed her hands. Dragging another bag of potatoes over to the old cook's station, she sat next to the wizened old woman and grabbed a peeler. The woman smiled and nodded her greeting, never pausing in her work. In no time the potatoes were peeled.
She hauled the potatoes to the chopping block, preparing to help there when the old cook gently laid a hand on her arm. The smile was there again on her face, but she shook her head then indicated the clock in the corner of the room. It was time for her to go.
She nodded her understanding to the cook and gave the old woman's hand a squeeze. Gathering her things, she made her way out of the castle, heading for town.
The king sat pensively in his chair at the table as the hair raising sound faded, watching the terror in his wife's eyes slowly fade, only to be replaced with sorrow. The problem was coming to bear again, he thought. He had put it off for a long as he could, but reality had finally come crashing in on him and he could no longer ignore it.
His wife saw the resignation in his eyes and hers softened in understanding. He had been much stronger than her in this matter, but knew that her course of action was the only one they could both live with and still keep their sanity.
They sat for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes and a thousand things passed between them. A lifetime of love and trust and friendship, and until recently, joy. The nightmare that plagued them now had to be dealt with, as much as it killed something inside them both.
The king set his jaw and the queen's eyes misted with tears. He raised his hand, calling for a servant. After receiving pen and parchment, he quickly scribbled a note and sent it on it's way. It was done. As soon as the door closed behind the servant and the king and queen were alone, he buried his face in his hands and wept. His wife laid her head upon his shoulder and wept with him.
She'd heard the howl and sat bolt upright in her chair. Rather than fear, she felt fury. She knew her parents and she knew what was coming. She had little time. Flying across her room, she quickly snatched the simple servant's gown she'd managed to get her hands on. Once again she offered a silent apology to whomever's dress she'd stolen.
Quickly getting dressed and wrapping her hair into a bun, she had to force herself to remain calm. If she acted out of sorts, she would be noticed and that was the very last thing she needed at the moment. She needed to disappear into the crowd, as it were. Adjusting the cloth tied over her hair, she checked herself in the mirror. With no cosmetics, her hair hidden from view and the plain dress, she looked nothing like herself. Thank the gods.
Keeping her chin tucked low, she left her apartments and made her way to the servant's wing. She was strictly forbidden from ever going there, but this time she cared not one whit for the rules. This was her only chance. After agonizing over this for so long, even getting everything ready in case she finally screwed up her courage, her hand was forced. There was no choice now. She had to get to him before it was too late.
Someone up there must have been smiling down on her, because she made it to the servant's kitchen without impediment. It was the dinner rush here, as the majority of the castle's servants had finished their chores for the day, and the kitchen was bustling.
At the base of the steps that led to the tower, she paused and looked over her shoulder. An old woman who stood in the middle of the commotion, conducting it all, was looking straight at her. For a moment, she thought she'd been caught and that the guards were about to be called. But all the woman did was give her a small nod and direct the attention of the crowd further away from the stairs.
Puzzled, but not looking a gift horse in the mouth, she raced up the stairs. Nearing the top, her heart was beating ferociously from more than just the climb. Truly, she didn't know what to expect. Steeling her nerves, she approached the door. She heard movement within and her courage almost deserted her. Weeks of agony, lies, betrayal, hope and truth had led to this and she knew it was far from the end. She lifted her hand to the handle.
"…hello…?" The voice she had thought never to hear again sounded weary and heartbroken. It was all she could do to stop the tears.
"Aryn?" It was barely a whisper from her lips, but the sound had a profound impact on the occupant of the room. A thump, a pause, then an intake of breath.
"Am I dreaming," he seemed to be asking himself, "or are you really there, Alana?"
With a small cry of relief, she fell to her knees, letting the tears fall freely.
"I'm here, Aryn, I'm here! Thank the gods you're alright!" His bark of bitter laughter cut through her joy like a keen knife. "Aryn?"
"I would not say that I am alright, sister mine." His voice was hollow with a cold edge. Alana let out a deep sigh. No, there was no way that he was alright. Everything was all wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.
"Listen, brother, I haven't much time. I'm afraid you've made things even worse for yourself now. That howling not long ago was the final straw, I fear. I've heard our parents talking and they… they cannot live like this anymore and-"
"THEY CANNOT LIVE THIS WAY!?" Aryn's bellow nearly knocked Alana on her rear in surprise. "What right have they to complain! Do they even know the extent of what has been done to me!? Do they care!?"
"You brought this on yourself!" Alana's hand flew to cover her mouth. She had not meant to say that. She had meant to lock those words in the back of her mind and never allow them to see the light of day. But the damage was done. "I…I am so sorry, Aryn, I didn't mean…" For a few moments there was silence and Alana feared more bellowing.
"What do you mean, I brought this on myself?" There was true confusion in his voice. She heard him move closer to the door, a strange clicking noise on the stones accompanying his movement. "Alana, what do you mean I brought this on myself? What could I have possibly done to deserve this fate?"
"What… how… how could you not know? What you did to those poor women, I-" Alana had to stop herself. She had been eavesdropping on her father, something that had started as a game for her and her brother when they were children, when she heard the full report of her brother's crimes. It still turned her stomach. And yet her brain rebelled at the thought that he could have done it. The evidence was damning though and it had led her to doubt him.
"Women? Alana, what are you talking about? What is going on?!" There was anger mixed in with the confusion in his voice now. "I haven't done anything. One minute, I'm returning from my duties as Father's foreign dignitary, and the next I'm bound and brought before… and then…" he swallowed so loud she could hear it through the door, "And then I was brought here. And left with no explanation, to rot." The silence was heavy, almost too heavy to bear.
"I don't… I don't know what to say Aryn." Alana started. "All I know is what I've managed to hear from my spying and none of it is good and all of it is damning. My heart wants to believe that the person I grew up with, that I've known all my life, couldn't have done what they claim. But my brain is having trouble seeing the truth in this mess. Forgive me for doubting you, but if you knew it all, you'd understand why I feel as I do."
"Then tell me!" He demanded. "Tell me so that I may help you weed out the truth. I can tell you all I remember-"
"I wish I could, but there is little time. You've called too much attention to yourself with your rages and I fear that mother and father are sending you away."
She winced at how callous it sounded, but she had no more time to be gentle.
"Sending me away? To where? Without ever knowing what I did to deserve this? This makes no sense. I never even got a trial. They truly must hate me, must've always hated me to leave me to this fate." There was a hint of resignation in his voice and it broke her heart.
"They don't hate you, nor have they ever. They are bereft because of what you have been accused, and seemingly proved to have done." She shook her head to try to clear it of the melancholy, knowing she needed to focus. "Now listen, I have a pretty good idea of where they may be sending you. You'll have more freedom there than you do here, but not much. If we are to figure this out, because in my heart of hearts I want to believe you, I think I do believe you, we need to find a way to communicate with each other. It must be most secret, for I fear what will happen if we are discovered."
"You truly believe me? That I am innocent?" Hope filled his words. It killed her to dampen that in any way.
"I believe there are two sides to every story and that not all, if any, of what is alleged against you can possibly be true. Unless you are the consummate actor, you have been framed and the truth will come out in the end either way. I plan to get to the bottom of that truth so that my mind and my soul may have some peace. I know that may be selfish and it may seem that I am not thinking of your plight, but wait until you have all the facts I have gathered before passing judgment on me. There is a war being waged in my heart and my mind and it leaves me no peace. I am doing what I must for my own sake, and gods willing, yours too."
There was silence so long, she thought he would never answer. She bit her lip, trying to think of the right words to make him understand, but he spoke before she could find them.
"I understand, sister. You are an intelligent, sharp witted woman. You believe neither portion of the story until you have all the facts and that is wise. I could only hope to think so level headedly if our positions were reversed. Now, let us plan."
And plan they did. With so little information, there wasn't much they could nail down, but they had a rough idea. Just as Alana was getting to her feet, they heard footsteps on the stairs. Alana froze in fear, because even in her disguise she knew her parents and perhaps even the head guards would recognize her. All their planning was about to come to an end right there.
The old cook from the kitchen came around the corner of the last few stairs and paused to catch her breath. She looked up at Alana, gazing at her for a moment before her silvered eyes flicked to the door. Alana held her breath. The old woman seemed to make up her mind and simply nodded at Alana and beckoned her with a slightly crooked finger.
"You must go your highness, now. Before you are found out." She smiled at the look of surprise on Alana's face. "Quickly now, come along." And she turned and headed back down the stairs. Alana hesitated only a moment to whisper through the door, "Be strong."
She caught up to the old woman and helped her down to the kitchen. Mere moments after she'd settled the woman on a stool, guards stormed into the kitchen, ordering everyone out. Thankfully in the uproar, Alana went unnoticed as she once again aided the aging cook outside.
"Now you must return to your rooms before you are discovered missing, my dear. Hurry along now. I'll be just fine." The beatific smile was there again, shining up at Alana. This woman was a puzzle to her, but she was eternally grateful. She opened her mouth to say just that, but wasn't given the chance.
"None of that now, dear. There isn't time. Come have a cup of tea with me when you can, but for now, go quickly. Thru the garden gate and into the servants quarters. I'm sure you can find your way from there." She gave Alana a little push to accentuate her words.
Making her way through the crowds that had been ousted from the kitchen, Alana paused at the gate to look back at the woman, but she was lost to the throng. Shaking her head, she made it back to her rooms in short order, again unimpeded, thank the gods.
By the time she changed out of her disguise and into her shift, she was so overcome with her emotions and the events of the last few weeks, that she lay on her bed and was almost immediately asleep. And she dreamed.
I already have the next few chapters written, and I plan to post one every week, perhaps sooner if I'm lucky enough to gain an audience. :-) Again, thanks for reading and please review!
Update: I went back through this chapter and fixed all the mistakes I'd missed before posting it the first time. Thanks to my wonderful little brother who makes an excellent impromptu beta!