So, guess who's back (back, back). Back again ('gain, 'gain). Kiwi's back (back, back). Tell a friend (friend, friend).
... Anyhow, yes, I'm back with a brand new story! We recently did a production of Beauty and the Beast in my American Musical Theatre class at school, and I was very inspired to write this afterwards. I am aware that there is another version of this story out there, but it is very different than where I am planning on taking mine. My Bella and the Beast will strictly follow the musical.
So, uh, I hope you enjoy. Please review!
"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away, but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his twenty-first year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?" – Disney's Beauty and the Beast.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Prologue
Happy Birthday
"Happy birthday, Edward!"
A round, heavily frosted cake sat in the center of the mahogany wood dining table. At the heart of the exceptionally large cake were twenty blue candles, each of them lit. Their tiny, glowing flames were the only light in the room.
Surrounding one side of the cake, were five very eager observers. They stared and smiled at the boy sitting at the table, who was looking at the cake with a very confused expression. His black eyes examined it carefully before he looked up at the others, one perfect eyebrow arched in bewilderment.
"As much as I appreciate the effort—"
The tiniest one in the group stepped forward before he could finish his objection. "We know you can't eat it," she said, her soprano voice twinkling. "It's just for show. Esme wanted to make this special. After all, turning twenty is quite an accomplishment."
His onyx eyes narrowed as he rose from the table. "As much as I appreciate the effort," he pressed, "This is hardly an occasion to celebrate."
The little one sighed. "Don't be difficult, Edward," she said, her own eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Esme worked very hard on this." She shook her head. "You know, if things were the way they used to be—,"
"Ah, but nothing is the way that it used to be, is it?" another woman cooed. The soft voice was deathly calm; quiet, yet threatening. All attention was immediately transferred to the bitter voice, and to be beautiful blonde that controlled it. As she approached, a scowl was playing on her perfect features. She glanced at the little pixie, her eyes filled with nothing but malice.
"Nothing is the way that it's supposed to be, Alice. And with every day that he"—she glanced at Edward in disgust, who's eyes immediately fell to the floor in agreement and shame—"ages, we become closer and closer to the day where the last petal falls, and our state becomes permanent." She spat the last word. Her voice was mocking as she added, "I'm sorry if we do not feel like celebrating such an accomplishment."
The one called Alice was about to retort, but another one in the group scurried forward and rushed to the side of the beautiful blonde. He was much larger than anyone else in the room, and positively towered over the bitter woman now at his side.
"Come on, Rose," he said, putting his arm around her and squeezing her to his side. Her ridged posture softened almost unnoticeably. "Don't be like that. We're all just trying to have a little fun, is all. You can understand that, can't you, Rosalie?"
She turned her head away from him. "Hmph."
"Or," he said, his voice turning mischievous. He lowered his lips to her ear and continued, "You and I can have our own fun, elsewhere."
Rosalie's eyes widened and she giggled quietly. "Now that," she said, smirking deviously as she took his hand and led him out of the room, "is my kind of celebration."
Emmett turned to the others and winked before he was out of sight.
Alice sighed. "Okay," she said, shaking her little head. "That was sufficiently awkward, but we can now resume the party!"
"Alice," Edward groaned. His face fell into his hand, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. When he spoke again, his tone was filled with nothing but remorse. "Rosalie's right. Let's not forget that it was my selfishness that put us in this position in the first place. Every day that I age, our hope for an escape decreases. Not only that, but I don't think that there would be a shred of hope for us, even if I had another hundred years to age. Have you forgotten the terms regarding our freedom? A human has not come near this house in years, and if, by some miracle, one happened to pass by - she certainly would not knock on our door and attempt to get to know us. My aging is merely another reason to give up all faith. As Rose said, this is hardly a night for celebration."
"Oh, but Edward," the eldest woman sighed, finally speaking. "Couldn't you please just cooperate with us for one night? If you stop sulking, perhaps you will be able to enjoy your birthday for the first time in years. You only turn twenty once, Edward."
Edward lifted his head to meet eyes with the woman. "Yes, Esme," he said, shaking his head. "However, on this day next year, I will forever be twenty-one. The next time you place an absurdly large cake in front of me, the petals will have wilted, and we will have the rest of eternity to live with the thorns. Turning twenty is meaningless, Esme. From here on out, the years are nothing but numbers."
"Will you please just humor her?" the man beside Esme asked. "Please, Edward. This means a lot to her. Just, sit down, and let her fuss over you like you've done every year before this blasted curse was set upon us."
A snarl escaped Edward's lips before he could stop it. Why weren't they listening to him?What was so difficult to comprehend about what he was saying? Edward didn't get it. What was so complicated about this situation? The servants obviously hadn't grasped what had occurred over the last couple years. If they did, they would not be so kind to him, still. They should have been shouting at him and accusing him - not attempting to celebrate for him! What on Earth was wrong with everyone? Had they forgotten what he had done? It nearly seemed so.
At least Rosalie had the common sense to display hatred towards him. Though, there was no reason for her to be the only one. They all should have loathed him. How could they not? They were monsters. Thirsty, disgusting, inhuman monsters. Because he couldn't let one old woman come in from the rain. Yes, the entire household should have hated him. He certainly did.
"I said," he growled angrily, his hands clenched into fists, "that I was not in the mood for celebrating." His eyes narrowed as he glared at those before him, and he opened his mouth to shout some more. They had to understand the reality of the situation. But the little one beat him to it.
"You know what? That is just fine! If you want to brood and feel sorry for yourself, you do just that! Completely ignore the fact that we worked our tails off to make things nice for you! God forbid you pay any attention to anything but your own, pathetic, depressing thoughts!" Alice snapped, glaring at him. "Your gift is obviously wasted, because you seem to only hear what you want to! But, go ahead. Ignore what we're screaming at you. Be a sulky little child." She grabbed Jasper's hand and towed him with her out of the room. "Forever twenty-one my backside! I wouldn't be surprised if you were forever ten years old!"
Esme's wide eyes stared after Alice. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, apologizing for her daughter. "You know how her temper flares." She sighed, glancing over at the cake. "She hates the way that you regard yourself, that's all. It bothers her that you refuse to accept the kindness that we willingly send your way. Though, mostly, she wishes that you would let us love you. Alice doesn't like that you refuse her as your sister."
The bronze-haired one frowned deeply, his anger fading. "You know that it's not like that, Mrs. Platt..."
Esme nodded. "I know it's not," she said, "and so does Alice - and the rest of us, for that matter. Jasper worries about you. He knows how you feel better than all of us, perhaps better than yourself." She frowned. "You know, if that girl ever does come along, she certainly won't find this attitude attractive."
"I don't think we'll ever have to worry about that, Esme," he said, looking away from her eyes. With a sigh, he added, "I am very sorry about tonight. Please tell Alice I said so, as well."
"Of course, sir."
Edward smiled sadly. "I'm going upstairs for the night," he announced. "I will see you in the morning."
"Have a good evening, your Highness," Carlisle said, ducking his head.
Esme did the same.
Edward smiled back at them. It was a little agreement they had come to, years ago, when his parents first passed away and he became the master of the castle. He was only twelve then. All of his servants would bow before they exited the room, as was the proper thing to do. Edward didn't like it, however, and told each of them it wasn't necessary. Of course they all refused, insisting that it was the appropriate way. Both the prince and his attendants were incredibly stubborn until a compromise was born. It was decided that they would simply bow their head upon exiting. It was as simple as a nod, but it was enough to please the servants. Much to Edward's satisfaction, that tradition faded among the younger members of the house, as their bond grew to resemble that of siblings. Only Carlisle and Esme continued to behave the "appropriate way."
It was the eve of his seventeenth birthday that the hag came to his door. According to the legend, his entire household was cursed. However, when the villagers spread that he had been turned into a hideous beast, they were all too willing to take it literally. They imagined an unsightly, hairy monster hiding inside the castle. They had no idea that a scary, fluffy, yet somehow lovable beast was not the sort that lived behind the hills.
Edward and his servants were given a much less tolerable fate. They were turned into monsters, alright, but not the kind that the legends led others to believe. No, they were turned into the things of nightmares, the monsters that had been considered fictional for centuries. The enchantress transformed them into vampires.
He and his family were cursed to an eternity in the castle, never to leave its grounds. They were forced to live a life of darkness; never aging, never dying – forced to live through eternity with a thirst that they could never quench . . . .
"Is there anything I can get you before you go?" Esme asked, bringing Edward out of his thoughts. She smiled at him, concerned over what he was brooding about, most likely. But that was Esme, always caring, always worrying.
"No thank you," Edward said, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Have a good evening." He lingered for just a moment before he turned and disappeared behind the corner.
Esme leaned in to blow out the candles, and the room faded to black.
Reviews are my oxygen.
