AN: I only intend this to be a oneshot. It came to me watching the DVD and I didn't want to lose it. I was captivated by the moment that Beauty curtsies to the Prince on the dance floor and I wondered how he would have felt should she have come before him in the opening scene; so this is how I chose to fit it in instead of pretending I'd do a gigantic AU story (unless I change my mind ;) ). Without further ado:
Beauty and the Beast: A Prologue
Around him twisted and turned the dancers, their faces eager and their eyes nervous but lustful. Each one hoping that they would win a crown through his hand. These women, all dressed in similar costumes so as not to dull his own appearance among them, they seemed more like petals on a daisy - to be tossed to the wind with a winsome wish.
Suddenly a golden light shown among them, parting their way. A young woman, lustrous hair simple - barely adorned - stood before him shining definitely of the sun, paling his own costume in comparison.
She curtsied low, her tiny form graceful, her dress' flounces nearly engulfing her and pooling at his feet. As she raised her face, her eyes, hopeful and imploring shot him through as an arrow. Her face was naked with need and confusion, uncertain yet demanding.
Before this, child, this spirit, he - a prince, almost a king - in all his glory and power felt a youth at dress-up. The makeup on his face became cloying, farcical; his wig a horse's tangled tail and his tall heels a juvenile display. Without realizing his movement, he gave his hand to raise her she stood commandingly right before him.
The clock's gong tolled deep, persistent. But the vision before him stayed.
Somehow the room had grown dark and he and the mysterious young woman appeared alone ensconced in candlelight. She reached her hands out to him, beckoning him to the dance. Entranced, his rose to meet hers with his own, but terror raced through him at the sight…
hideous hairy monstrosities with dagger-sharp claws pierced his view. In shame he froze, horrified at what once were long perfectly manicured hands. But those small, sure hands never hesitated and grasped his own, drawing him into her blinding light.
In his shock he raised his eyes to hers to find warmth, even kind acceptance in those orbs and his fears melted away. Looking closer, frozen in this moment he could almost sense a tentative affection and he realized for the first time in years he felt…at home. Drawing her nearer he could feel himself falling into her honey brown eyes -
The clock's gong turned into hard pounding of a fist on wood, forcing him from his dream and casting it in shadow.
A muffled voice came to his ears through the thick door. "Your Highness! It is time to get ready!"
With a growl he closed his eyes, desperately trying to remember that haunting face. But she slipped away like the smoke from a snuffed candle.
Rising he remembered, today was his birthday and the day he would pick a bride.
Banishing the phantom of his imagination he stood and went to allow his staff to prepare him, to make him a king.
The End.
