**Written in honor of those people in our lives who push and inspire us to be better.**
The old bookseller blinked and readjusted his spectacles, convinced he wasn't reading the letter right.
"To a very special man, please come to our home at once. We wish to repay you for all you have done. Follow the directions below. Bring whatever you desire, as you will likely not return. Hope to see you soon! Your friend, Belle"
He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "My dear Belle," the old man murmured as he rubbed his tired eyes. "How long has it been?"
As if in response, through the window he watched yet another villager walk by his shop without a second glance. In a town filled with very common people, dedicated readers such as Belle were hard to come by. When she left, the business went with it; after all, she was the business. But the old bookseller never sold his shop, not even when the passing years wore his muscles down to shaky lumps. He had to hire a young village boy just to contain the dust.
The tinkling bell of the front door (a sound rarely heard more than twice a day) heralded that same boy. "Bonjour, monsieur!" He called, sunlight following in his wake. "Mrs. Totters tripped over Tom's sheep and fell right into the fountain, you should have seen it!"
"Ah, yes, Mrs. Totters. Sounds like quite the event." The bookseller ideally rubbed the paper, not even noticing when the lad failed to close the door properly (again). "The history section is out of order. Would you fix them up, Arthur?"
Arthur paused in shrugging off his coat and stared at the old man. "The histories? But, monsieur, I sorted those yesterday."
The bookseller paused, and then nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. How silly of me."
Ever curious, the boy's eyes flicked towards the letter. "What'cha got there?"
He glanced down at his hands, and the man's eyebrows drew together as he analyzed it. Yes, he thought, what was this? "A summons," he finally answered. "From Belle herself."
Arthur gasped. "A summons? Monsieur, you must answer it!"
Instead of agreement, the old man scoffed and tossed it onto his desk. "Bah! I'm too old for such formal arrangements." He made to stand and Arthur tensed. "Those directions lead straight through the—ach!"
Before he could get to his feet a coughing fit drove him back into the chair, coursing through his lungs and burning his throat. Arthur jumped forward, ready to help him, but the bookseller waved him away. "I'm fine," he growled.
The boy bit his lip and watched the old man warily. Finally he said, "I think you must, monsieur. That there is from Lady Belle herself. I've heard stories of her – she is very kind. She could help you."
"Help me with what? Dying?" Arthur flinched, and the old bookseller sighed. "I'm sorry, my boy. I shouldn't have said that."
Silence hung over the trio: the boy, the old man, and the letter. Then the old man confessed, "I knew Lady Belle, before she was royalty."
Arthur looked at him quickly, and he continued. "She was just as kind and fair and gentle, no titles needed. And smart, too! I remember, the first book I ever lent her. Her father was next door buying machine parts, and she wandered in with this crazy idea that I was a magician. I showed her my magic power that day. Books! The greatest secret to happiness that has been ignored by this town for all these years." He smiled at the memory. "In time, I gave her that first book to keep. To read for a third time, and many times after.
"That was the day before she disappeared, in fact." The old man looked down at his wrinkled hands in sorrow. "The last time I ever saw her."
Arthur nodded at hearing the tale, and suddenly burst into a grin. "Why, then you must see her!"
The bookseller blinked and looked up so fast his spectacles threatened to fall off. "Eh?"
"You must go to her immediately!" The boy continued. "She must miss you so much! Why else would she send you a letter after all these years?"
The old man stared hard at Belle's letter, then at the boy, then at the letter again.
He nodded.
"Yes!" He proclaimed. "Yes, I shall go."
Arthur grinned and bounced on the soles of his leather shoes. "I'll grab your cart!"
In record time the boy filled the bookseller's two-wheeled cart with everything he could need: food, water canteens, maps, even pen and paper. "In case you have some ideas you want to write down," Arthur reasoned.
Finally, at the very end, the bookseller appeared with an armful of his most weathered, most treasured books. They were a stack of favorites he'd always enjoyed, and had secretly hoped to share with Belle one day. "For the road," he grunted to Arthur as he hefted them into the back.
The boy grinned and sprung to the front, already reaching down to grab the cart handles. But the old bookkeeper shook his head sadly. "No, lad. I do not intend to return to this old shop. I must go alone."
"But the forest is dangerous!" Arthur protested. "What if you get lost? You'll need me."
"I need you right now, Arthur. I need you to take over this bookshop." The old man glanced back at what had been his home for most of his long life. "Spruce it up a bit. Get some new titles on the shelves. Maybe write a few of your own. Make the place yours. If you be kind to her—"
"She'll be kind to you," the boy finished. He stared down at his shoes, then finally glanced up at the old wooden structure, which now seemed as imposing and formidable as a fortress. "Are you sure I'm ready?"
The bookkeeper smiled. "Of course you are."
Now decided, Arthur hugged the old man tightly and wished him well. He continued to wave to his mentor, even as the sound of the cart wheels rolling over the gravel vanished in the afternoon crowd.
In the olden days, the forest was a place to be feared, filled with wolves, bats, and creatures that were too terrible to name. But since Belle's wedding to the prince, the woods had transformed into a place of warmth. Sunlight streamed through the trees, and birds could be heard in the distance. Still, the traveler should still be cautious of other dangers, such as rogue bandits and thieves.
Fortunately the old bookseller's journey was uneventful, the only discomfort being the weight of the cart and the stiffness of his shoes. And every few steps he glanced down at the letter with squinted eyes.
"Darn things," He muttered, readjusting his spectacles yet again. Belle's directions were clear, thank goodness, but the trees and undergrowth made even the most straight-forward of journeys confusing. "Now a right here…and a left at the large stones…and…
"Oh my." The old man stopped in his tracks and stared, open mouthed, at the fairy-tale scene that appeared before him. An enormous castle, gleaming white, arose out of the trees, its highest tower appearing to scrape the clouds. A gate guarded the impressive structure, and as the bookseller approached they swung open to admit him to the gardens. Never in all his life had he seen such beauty; he was sure he hadn't seen many of the garden's flowers in his plant encyclopedia.
Under the bright sunshine, the old man crossed the grounds and the stone bridge, and approached the tall door to the castle proper. But before he could even raise his fist to knock, the door swung outward, as if by magic.
The bookseller entered tentatively at first, then more confidently as it became clear that this structure was evil and cursed no longer. Everything gleamed and shined in the light of the golden chandelier, from the tiled floors, to the statues, to the very walls. It was clear the servants who tended this castle cared for every part of it. The old man was embarrassed to be the one to drag his dirty cart and shoes through the pristine rug.
But his eyes were dragged away from the vaulted ceiling by the sight of who was running down the grand staircase. "Belle!" He called.
In an instant Lady Belle was there embracing him. "You came!" She said, smiling down at his short frame. The old bookseller smiled, almost in relief. He wouldn't have recognized her in her emerald gown had it not been for her eyes and smile – they were just as warm and friendly as ever.
They exchanged few words, so excited was Belle to show her old friend what she summoned him for. "Come with me," she said, clasping her hand around his. "Don't worry about your cart, someone will take that to your room."
"My room?" The bookseller chuckled but allowed himself to be led without a fuss. "My dear Belle, how long am I planned to stay?"
But Belle put a finger to her lips and led him through the halls of the castle, only speaking to point out some interesting statue or other. The old man was amazed. How could a castle look this new and still retain so much of its history?
Finally Lady Belle halted in front of a set of double doors at the end of the hall. "Close your eyes," she told him, giggling to herself as if it was some private joke. Eager to please his very dear friend, the bookseller did so, and Belle gently led him by his shoulders into the room.
After a few steps, she released him. "Okay, now, open."
When the old man opened his eyes, he thought his heart might cease beating. All around him was a library so large, so magnificent, the fireplace looked petite in comparison. Books lined every shelf, from one end of the room to another, and from the first floor to the second. Two lions, one right across from the other, stood next to the stacks and reached to the ceiling, looking as if they guarded knowledge itself. Somewhere behind him were enormous windows, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the stacks long enough to check.
Finally he looked for Belle, and quickly shut his gaping mouth at who she was with. There the prince stood, dressed in green finery. His arm was around Belle's shoulders, and he smiled at the bookkeeper with pride.
"This is the biggest library in the land," Belle explained, giving the walls an appreciative glance. "I've read so many books and I haven't even scratched the surface."
"This is…remarkable," The old man breathed.
Lady Belle looked at him and smiled, a gleam in her eyes. "Many years ago I was criticized by my own town for being different. But you not only accepted my love of reading, you encouraged it, and for that I am forever grateful."
She raised her arms and gestured to the library, nay, the whole castle. "In return, I invite you to stay, here, in this castle. You will be well cared for, and I'm sure these books have been waiting for a reader like you for a long time."
The old bookseller was speechless, and for the first time that day, Belle looked nervous. "So…what do you think? Do you like it?" She asked.
"L-like it? I-I…" He swallowed. And then, he smiled. "I think I should need a ladder."
And there the bookseller lived and read, happy, until the end of his days.
~The End~