TO BARE THE CURSE

by Linda J.

DESCRIPTION: My entry for Disney-By-Eras"Forgotten Ones" Contest.

Based on Beauty and the Beast/Beauty and the Beast Enchanted Christmas. My thoughts of what it might have been like for Maestro Forte and Prince Adam the first night they were transformed by the enchantress, told through Forte's POV.

RATED: PG-13 for strong adult language.

At first there was just darkness in my quasi-slumber. Beautiful, peaceful, glorious darkness. Although, perhaps I was not sleeping at all, but rather being remade into something wonderfully new. I felt myself waking up, um, becoming aware of myself I suppose you could call it; and for the first time in my long and dreary life, I felt… alive. Not some weak and freakish form of a man I had been lotted in life to become, but strong and, dare I say, invincible? I looked out in front of me and realized I towered above everything else in the room; oh what a marvelous creation I must have been to gaze upon. But where the devil were my hands? My feet? I began to move my head about, and as I did I heard the creaking and scraping of metal. Was that me making that noise? It was me. Literally me; I was now made of metal! I just had to see myself in the mirror, I had to know what I looked like. I decided legs or not, I will make myself move.

'I'll just pick myself up and…' /clank clank/ '…I said, I will just pick myself up and…' /clank clank/ 'Good heavens, what's this!?'

Immediately, panic set in as I began to realize I was firmly stuck in place. I don't like to be confined, I absolutely loathe the very idea. I am an artist, a free spirit. I must be permitted be move about as I wish, to move freely and without boundaries. I shook and tugged myself with all my might until pieces of the ceiling fell on my head. I stopped for fear of unintentionally killing myself. 'Is the the fate of Forte?' I wondered quietly to no one in the room. 'To be bolted to the wall like some common criminal in a dungeon?'

I'll admit it, I began to sob and scream out loud like a terrified child. Even the voices in my head screamed along with me and that's when I discovered I could still make music. Oh yes, I could still make music. With shaking breaths I forced myself to calm down and began to concentrate on the music inside my head. I had always performed with my eyes closed, and now more than ever I needed to rely on my particular brand of genius, otherwise I just might go entirely insane. I took a deep breath and imagined the music inside my brain; and as I thought, so it became. It came as easily and smoothly just as it always had. No insight from a master; no instructions or lessons for me. I was a true prodigy in every sense of the word. As a human, I had sat down in front of the pianoforte at age five and began to perform for the nuns at the orphanage without so much as learning the scales; and now here I've been an organ for only a matter of minutes and already mastered the art of controlling my keyboard with merely giving it some thought.

I continued to play that tune in my head. That beautiful melody the master had so meanly insulted. 'Gloomy, pah!'

Further and further I let the music carry me away from my newly discovered prison. Over the snowcapped mountaintops, beyond the endless valleys. In my mind, I saw a herd of horses running wild and free. Galloping proudly across the eternal vastness of my mind, water splashed high into the air as they charged headstrong into a babbling brook. I could actually feel the warm sunlight and coolness of the mountain air as I gazed upon this world my music had created. Then suddenly, I paused for a moment and opened my eyes. All around me I saw weird little green glowing horses bouncing friskily about the room, as well as what looked to be droplets of eerie green water, illuminating the room in a peculiar green glow as they ran down the walls of the room, and oh! The music notes! Everywhere, tiny little green music notes bounced and bobbed aimlessly in every direction. Then I noticed, directly in front of me, a large floor size vase floating in mid air. I gasped in surprise as the sight startled me and in an instant the vase plummeted to the floor, smashing into a thousand pieces as it hit and bounced off the stair case.

Now, I never told anyone before, but this was not the first time I had seen an object in the same room with me seem to move by the mere suggestion of my will. In fact, back at the orphanage, I remember being able to move a number of objects if I concentrated hard enough, though they moved only but an inch or so; nothing as impressive as what my eyes had just beheld.

Back then, I dared not display this fascinating but unusual talent to any of my orphan brothers or sisters and certainly not to any of the nuns who nurtured us. No doubt my dutiful and pious spiritual godmothers would have found it very hard to accept my… um, unique powers. People as exceptional as me are too often looked upon as 'devil children' and devil children too commonly meet up with very dire fates. So, I hid my extraordinary ability and dare not let anyone know of them; not even that sweetly annoying apprentice of mine, Fife. Although surely he would have only worshiped me all the more just because I could move an item or two without lifting a finger. That dear little simpleton is so easily amused. But now that we in the castle had fallen victim to an apparently very temperamental 'devil child,' what harm would there be if I indulged myself and explored my other unique qualities? What would the master do? Lock me up in the dungeon and throw away the key?

So I focused my concentration on my music bench and watched it rise off the floor, I then noticed there was that same illuminating green beam of light that seemed to be what held the bench in air. Did that light come from within me? I surmised it must be so. I felt myself puff up with pride, so pleased at what I had become. Who would have thought that a curse could turn into such a wondrous blessing? I gradually became more used to my confinement, exchanging my mobility for this mysterious and fascinating talent. Now, if I could only figure out how to get rid of these damned fluttering music notes.

Then in the room next to mine, I heard a great deal of excitement as apparently many large and heavy objects were being thrown violently into the adjacent wall, making the unmistakable sound of splintering wood and shattering glass. In the midst of all that noise, I heard the sound of a wild and angry animal; a beast roaring with all its might. The sound sent shivers down my spine; well, that is to say, it would have had I still had a spine. Suddenly the door between the rooms flew open and in charged a monster. It was furry and huge, with horns on its head and claws for hands.

I began to tremble so badly that my pipes began to bang into each other; where I excel in creative genius I'm afraid I sorely lack in buoyant conversation. "M-m-master?" I meekly called out to him.

Instantly the beast whirled around and glared angrily at me. "What did you call me?" the thing growled at me.

"U-um, M-m-master." I repeated, desperately trying not to sound as timid as I really was. I could now see that the beast had been crying, rather vehemently it seemed.

"Don't you mean, monster!" he yelled back at me, throwing the other floor vase straight at me. Out of instinct I tried to move aside, but to no avail. The vase hit me square in the face but then I discovered something very amazing; I could feel no pain. I watched the pieces from second vase mix with the pieces from the first.

"Well, guess we won't be using either of those anymore." I rolled my eyes as the master just stood there panting like, well like the beast he had become. After he caught his breath he began to tear my room apart, starting with the furniture. At the time I was not aware, nor do I think the prince was aware, that any one of those furniture pieces could have actually been one of his loyal but unfortunate servants. Piece after piece he threw directly at me, everything he could get his hands on, only to have each and every piece explode into sprinters and fall to the floor by my keyboard. I stood there quietly waiting for the spoiled prince to finish his temper tantrum rather enjoying the fact that none of his blows effected me in the slightest, and the more obvious it became to the prince that I was actually amused by his little outburst, the angrier he got. After the furniture was gone, and all the little trinkets and spandangles that decorated the room were smashed to bits, he began to tear and rip the curtains to shreds, then he went for the pictures on the wall. His last and final act of violence was to tear his claws right into his portrait which his mother had commissioned for him before her death; the only article in the castle I believed he might actually have given a damn about.

"Well your highness," I know my tone was condescending but I no longer cared. "Now that you've managed to demolish everything in sight, are you ready to settle down?"

He didn't answer me. Instead he began to rummage through the broken pieces of what had been his father's own wardrobe. He found what he had gone looking for, his father's military sword, and pulled it out from its scabbard.

A twinge of fright crept upon me again; since blunt force made no damage to me, was the prince going to take that sword and use it to pry me loose from the wall? Was he that determined to destroy everything in his sight?

"What are you going to do with that?" Still, the prince refused to give me an answer.

He raised the sword pointing the blade toward himself; his intentions were clear. Suddenly something came over me, I'm not sure what it was. "Stop this at once!" I barked out loud. He paused and looked at me.

"Look at me, Forte. I can't live like this. What maiden would ever look at me in this form and fall in love?" He was practically sniveling as he held the sword pointed to his abdomen.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how much love money, not to mention a royal title, can buy you, your highness," I tried to assure him.

The prince shook his head. "That won't work. It has to be true love in order to break the curse."

"Well then, you are in trouble." I knew my words stung, but I no longer cared.

The prince reeled back in shock. "You, you're not supposed to speak to me like that," he halfway whispered.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" I bitterly snapped at the beast-like child. I don't know what came over me, but it felt so bleeding nice to speak from my heart. "Well, maybe if more of us had not been afraid to hurt your feelings once in a while, your highness, you would not have pissed off the old woman at the door. You know the old woman I'm speaking of, right? The one who cursed all of us!"

The beast's head and arms dropped in despair, taking in everything I just said to him. Then stubbornly he raised his head and put the blade to his gut again. This time I knew for certain he was determined to go through with it. "There's no hope for me, Forte. No hope for me at all."

"Damn you!" I yelled. "How dare you feel sorry for yourself! Have you not even one noble bone in that grotesque body you now find yourself in?"

Again he paused, looking rather stern. "Forte, I really don't appreciate your tone right now."

"And you think I should care about that, this very moment? Just look at you! You're about to run yourself through with your father's sword, but still you have the gall to correct your servant's manners. Coward!"

The master growled at me and I swear I saw flames of rage ignite in his blue eyes. "You take that back!"

"I'll do no such thing!" I defiantly argued back. "Suicide is a coward's way out, your highness. And here I thought you were a Frenchman."

The prince lowered the sword but only to continue the argument. "I am a Frenchman!"

"Really?" I questioned skeptically. "A Frenchman doesn't need hope to face his trials. Hope is just a waste of time anyway. What good has hope ever done for anyone? No, you don't need hope, your highness. What you need is to be strong. Are you strong?"

Humbly, the master nodded his head, lowering the sword a little more.

"Good," I smiled. "Now say it."

"I-I'm s-s-strong," the master mumbled half heartedly.

"Oh master," I spoke disappointedly. "You have to say it like you mean it."

"I'm strong," he said, this time with a bit more gusto.

"Again," I instructed.

"I'm, I, I'm… strong." This time the master seemed to believe what he was saying.

"Much better, your highness. One more time. Let everyone in the castle know." I suggested.

"I'M STRONG!" he practically roared this time, with a fair amount of pride.

I nodded my head in satisfaction. "Very good, master. Now, put that sword somewhere safe before you hurt yourself."

Much to my surprise, the master did just as I told him to without so much as a single cross word. Now that the crisis was over, I closed my eyes again and resumed my music. I thought perhaps now, something calming would be in order after these traumatic events I had just experienced, so I played a soft and quiet melody to calm my rattled nerves. But soon I heard the crackling of a fire and looked over to the fireplace in corner of the room. There sat the master, with his back to me, staring into the fire he had made. I stopped playing, unsure whether the master was listening or not. Slowly he turned to look at me. "Keep playing," he quietly commanded.

"Yes, your highness, of course." I humbly obliged. Then a miracle of miracles occurred; the master said he liked my music! His royal majesty, Prince Adam, actually told me, with his very own words, that he liked my music!

"Your music," he spoke somberly.

"What about it?" I asked, biting my tongue, expecting to hear some snide remark.

"It's, it's nice." he quietly remarked. "I… like it."

I could barely believe my ears. Finally, my art was appreciated by someone who truly mattered. Maybe being permanently fixed to the wall wasn't such a miserable state of existence after all. I continued on with my music, playing it softly and this time even I recognized the gloominess in its chords. But, it pleased the master, so gloomy I would play.

I watched him from my high and lofty place and found myself feeling sorry for the wretched thing. He was so dejected and glum, nothing like the arrogant little twerp that ruled over us in the castle like a miniature tyrant. It was obvious he needed me to feed his tormented soul in a way that only music can do and, to be honest, I needed someone to listen to and appreciate my music. Otherwise, what purpose could I possibly have inside this dark and depressing room?

"Will you keep playing for me, Forte?" the beast-child prince asked me in a sweet sincere voice.

"Of course I will, your majesty," I replied, just as sweet and sincere. "I'm here for you now. I always will be here for you."

The master didn't answer me with words, but instead with a sad little smile and a gleam of trust in his eyes. I was beginning to feel, dare I say, love for the creature? Like a father would feel compelled to protect his young, so I felt the need to protect this, this beast. I would become his cher ami, his one true and trusted friend. He was mine to care for now; he was mine to keep safe and no one on earth, or heaven, or hell, would tear him away from me.

He turned back to stare mindlessly at the flames and as he did, I made a solemn vow to myself to keep my master from anything that might make him suffer any more torment than he already had. Here in my grasp he was safe, he was sound. Here he was happy within his own sadness, and in his sadness I found my purpose, I found my joy.

"Yes, your highness;" I quietly disclosed my secret promise. "I will continue to play for you forever, and ever."

-FIN