AN: you guys seemed to like my Italy in Oz story, so here's on of beauty and the beast! Let me know if there's another fairy tale or whatever that you'd like to see, because I'm running out of ideas!
Prologue
Once upon a time, there lived a spoiled young man. He was raised in a beautiful home and started out as a sweet child with many good friends, but as time went on,
he grew more and more rude to everyone and all his friends turned away from him. He took his frustrations out on his music, creating a new song for every tantrum. Finally, he found himself all alone in his huge house. One night, as he sat in his favorite chair daydreaming, he heard a knock at the door, almost drowned out by the rumbling of thunder and the patter of rain. As he went to answer it, his windows flashed white, and another great clap of thunder was heard. The young man opened the door and was greeted with a bow from a mysterious, soaking wet stranger, clad in a mint green robe, the hood of which covered his face.
"Good evening, my lord," said the stranger. "I am but a traveller, passing through the town, but caught in a storm. Might you have lodging for one night? I have eaten already, I am not hungry. All I ask is a place to hang my coat and to lay my head."
The man looked him up and down. "How do you make your living, traveller?" He asked.
"Ah. An excellent question. As I've been to many places, I have seen many things. One of the things I've seen is that ladies love flowers, and men who love ladies give them flowers. I travel to find new flowers, harvest and sell them. The money I use to travel and to eat. Here," the traveller paused and reached into his robe at the breast, removing a green stem with a green bud at its tip, not yet open. "This rose is one of a rare type; its scent is more prominent, it will take several years to wilt, and it is said that those who are given one will find themselves happier with their lives."
The young man had grown bored. "Go away," he said. "I'd rather not be bothered by the likes of you, and I do not believe in fairy-tales. Give your rose to some stupid lady."
The stranger straightened his posture a bit. "The value of this flower is greater than a nights lodging. Greater, even, than the value of my own life. But lesser than the value of a simple act of compassion that one person can show another. For a rose can bloom and die and it will be forgotten, but a man can live and be kind, and in memories, he never dies."
"Stop speaking in riddles and leave my home," said the young man.
The traveller placed the stem at the feet of the young man and stood tall. The young man looked up at him; had he grown taller? Looking down, he saw that the traveller was floating. The young man gasped and fell to his knees. The traveler's hood was flung back by some unseen force, and he spoke in a monstrous, growling voice that seemed to scare even the thunder. Lightning fell and flashed all about, lighting up the traveler's face. The young man gaped at him; blond, with green eyes and bushy black eyebrows.
"Hear this now," bellowed the traveler, or, as he was now revealed, the wizard. "You have had many a chance, and that was your last one. You shall see yourself as others see you!"
The young man trembled and felt a pain in his arms and legs. He looked at them. His fingers swelled, growing claws, and thick, black fur! He strained as the pain grew, accidentally biting his tongue, which immediately bled. He spat the blood out, and felt at his teeth; they were razor sharp! He convulsed as his body grew in size and as hair sprouted from places it never had before. Finally, when it was all over, he lay panting on the ground.
"Please," the young man, now a hideous monster, pleaded, "I'll let you sleep here. You can even live here if you want. Give me another chance."
The wizard looked at him, and picked the rose back up. "I will give to you what you did not give to me: compassion. Yes, I will give you one last chance. The story I told you of this rose is true. It will bloom for two years, and during the third year it will wilt. You must find someone in that time. Someone who will look past your hideous form and find a good person inside. You must show them that you have a good person inside."
"Who do I have to find? Is it someone I know?" Asked the young man.
"It can be anyone."
"This doesn't make sense. I don't understand."
The wizard got on his knees beside the young man, who seemed to be about to pass out.
"I'll make it simple. You have to love someone, and they have to love you back. Be it a friend or a lover, you must love and be loved by them by the time the last petal falls from this rose." The wizard picked the flower up and stepped over the young man. As the young man lost consciousness, the wizard placed the flower in a vase and recited an incantation. The instant he left the house, the furniture came to life. A great bed sheet slid itself under the young man and a coffee table carried him to bed. When he found himself in a state of wakefulness, a teapot and cup were carried in on a floating tray. The young man felt he should be shocked, yet was not. He refused the tea that was offered him and instead flung the cup across the room, shattering it. In a fit of rage, he stormed through his bedroom, breaking windows and ripping the wallpaper. Finally, he broke down and wept. He remembered the wizard's words, but felt that his second chance was hopeless. Who could love a monster like him?
Chapter One
Hungary woke up early, as was her habit. Snatching the books she borrowed, she made her way out the door and headed for the library. The first few minutes of her trek were silent. Her town was a quiet place, a little settlement where everyone knew everyone else's name. She lived with her friend, Switzerland, and his sister Liechtenstein. The morning was chilly, but it almost always got warmer by the time she got to the library. She was hardly a few steps into town when people started waking up. Windows opened to the rising daylight, children ran outside to begin their day's play as their parents got ready for work. Hungary loved children, and they seemed to love her, too. A knot in a shoelace was a cinch for her slender, but strong, fingers, and she told very good stories. When the baker sold her a sweet pastry, she'd always share with whoever happened to be closest. This morning, she hadn't brought any money. All the same, the children were happy to see her. She lifted a few of them and swung them high in the air, patted their heads and continued walking as they set up their jacks and jump ropes. As much as she could enjoy herself in her town, she was bored. Switzerland and Liechtenstein were good friends to her, but her own life didn't compare to the wild adventures she found in books. After smiling and saying hello to several of her neighbors, Hungary arrived at the library. Germany, the owner, greeted her at the door with a pleasant expression. (Pleasant for Germany, anyway. He didn't smile much.) Hungary returned her book and looked around on the shelves for anything she hadn't read yet. The rest of the building was quiet, but it wasn't the strained silence of a library, it was the silence of an empty room. There weren't a lot of people in the town who liked to read, thus making Hungary stand out even more. Hungary found nothing new on the shelves, and plucked out one she'd read several times before. Each time she'd read it, she found she could dive deeper into it, and had read it so thoroughly that she could almost recite the volume by heart. She brought it to Germany.
"Do you never get tired of this one?" He asked, minor amusement in his voice.
"How can I get tired of my favorite book?" She asked. "Of all the others, this one has the most adventure, the highest suspense, and the sweetest of love stories." Hungary always found herself rambling when she spoke of her favorite book.
Germany looked at the book for a while. He handed it over the counter. "Keep it," he told her.
"Are you sure?" Hungary asked, incredulous.
"I figure you might as well know," Germany said. "I'm packing up. Hardly anyone comes in here and I can't afford to keep the place up. Take it with you and enjoy."
"Thanks," Hungary said, deeply saddened. She stepped out of the library, not knowing what else to do or say. She fought back tears as she began to read while she walked. As soon as she was out of earshot, people would gossip. Seychelles and Belarus whispered to each other.
"Wonder what's possessed her," Belarus said. "Doesn't she know that real life exists outside of books?"
"If she knows, she doesn't care," answered Seychelles. "But she'll never get a man with her nose buried in a dusty old book."
Prussia strolled into town, dragging a dead buck by the antlers to the butcher while Spain and France carried dead geese and rabbits, all of which were shot by Prussia.
"All this?" Said the butcher, impressed. "You'll have to teach some of the young boys around here to hunt; this town'll certainly never go hungry as long as there's bullets in your gun."
Prussia nodded. "I know. I'm awesome."
The butcher paid him for the meat. "Come pick up the antlers later," he said. Prussia strolled away, with Spain and France in tow. Seychelles, Ukraine and Taiwan watched as they walked past.
"He's so hot," Seychelles whispered to the other two, who nodded.
"And I hear he's single. I wonder why," said Taiwan.
"Maybe he'll ask one of us out," said Ukraine.
"Prussia is the best hunter in town, and he's cute. He could have any girl in town. Why's he single?" Asked Taiwan.
Meanwhile, Prussia and the other two walked into an alley.
"Okay, Prussia," France said. "Spill. You've been acting weird today."
Prussia pulled out a cloth and began wiping his rifle. "If you must know, I plan on asking Hungary out."
"Why her?" Asked Spain. "I mean, Ukraine has the bigger boobs."
Prussia shrugged. "Nah. Hungary's prettier by a mile. She's as sexy as I am awesome."
"Think she'll go out with you?" Asked France. "She's closer to kissing that book than you."
Spain snickered and Prussia punched them both on the head. "Why wouldn't she? I'm the most looked up to guy in town. Any one of the girls here would drop to their knees for me if I so much as winked."
Spain and France looked at each other, as if they wanted to start laughing. Prussia rolled his eyes. "Yes, I meant THAT way."
The other two laughed. "Anyway," Prussia continued. "Hungary's hotter than all other girls in town, and I'll be taking her out tonight."
"You haven't asked her out yet," Spain reminded him.
"Doesn't matter," Prussia said. He handed his rifle to France and lightly jogged to catch up with Hungary.
"Hello, Hungary," he said.
She looked up from her book and turned around to face him. "Oh, hello, Prussia." She continued walking and reading. Prussia snatched the book.
"Give that back, Prussia. Please?"
"What's so great about books?" Asked Prussia, flipping through it. "This looks lame." He shut the book, losing Hungary's place. Hungary scowled and reached for her book. He teasingly waved it above her head.
"Listen," he said. "How about you have dinner with me tonight? Say, eight o'clock?"
"No," Hungary said angrily, finally snatching her book back and holding it tightly against her. "I'm busy tonight." She turned around in a huff, walking quickly away. Prussia stared at her rear in a tense rage. Both arousal and anger swelled in him like an overinflated balloon. "That went well," Spain said sarcastically. Prussia hit him on the head again. A young woman passed by them, looking Prussia up and down. Still furious, Prussia took her by the hip and led her to the tavern, where he had rented the upper floor. "Leave me alone until tomorrow," he told the other two. The girl giggled as he led her up the stairs and slammed the door behind them. Intermittently throughout the night, the tavern ceiling rained dust down on the drinking men, accompanied by loud female moans and equally loud knocking on the floor above. Spain and France hung about the tavern, drinking and keeping people from entering the upstairs room to complain about the noise.