The next morning, after the traumatic task of recleaning and rebandaging Belle's wounds, the Beast went down for breakfast.
"Has Belle's father come down?" he asked the staff.
"Not yet," Mrs. Potts said.
"Should I go check on him?" Lumiere asked. "I thought about it, but I don't wish to wake him. Or startle him. I know he was rather...surprised by last night's events."
"Please do," the Beast said. "But check quietly. If he's asleep leave him be for now. If he's awake, invite him to breakfast."
"Right away Master," the candelabra said as he exited the dining room.
"Master," Cogsworth said, "he seemed rather unsure if he can trust you with your not taking him to see Belle. Given his first impression of you I can't say as I blame him. He seems quite confused...you seem to be kinder and trying to help, but he's seen what you were like before and not being allowed to see his daughter isn't helping."
"I know," the Beast said regretfully. "Hopefully he'll come down for breakfast and I can start trying to build rapport. Belle had an idea of how to do that. She'd rather not have him see her like she is, but she said I could bring him in if he insists, after I prepare him for what he'd see. But she wants me to try and gain some trust first. She's worried about how he will handle seeing her in her frail state. And then there's the possibility she'll succumb..." his voice trailed off.
"She's very strong," Mrs. Potts said. "Perhaps physically weak but her mind and heart are strong. That'll help her pull through this."
"I hope so," the Beast said. "If she dies...well I don't think I'll care if I take another breath."
Maurice did come down, and sat at the end of the table opposite the Beast. He gave the Beast a wary glance.
"Did you sleep all right?" the Beast asked.
"I suppose so," Maurice said. "As well as I could considering the rather confusing set of circumstances I find myself in. It's not every day you are rescued from an asylum by a beast who once sentenced you to rot in a cell for life on account of a rose, then accepted your daughter as a trade for your freedom, and now seems to want to help, but tells you your daughter is gravely wounded and won't let you see her. Oh yes, I almost forgot. A beast with a...very unorthodox mode of transportation and a staff of sentient knickknacks. I did manage to get some sleep amidst trying to get my mind around all that."
The Beast bowed his head. Some of Maurice's confusion was his fault. All of it was, really.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It's...my fault you're confused. And my fault you fear me. I suppose telling you that you need not fear me, after our first meeting, probably doesn't help much."
They were silent for the remainder of breakfast, then the Beast invited Maurice to join him in the parlor. Once both were seated, the Beast spoke.
"I know you're unsure of things," he said. "Are there any questions I might be able to answer?"
"There is a question," Maurice said. "After you left the library last night, the talking candelabra...Lumiere is it? He told me something rather...stunning. He told me...that you...love my daughter." He looked directly at the Beast. "Is this true?"
"It is," the Beast said, looking up to meet Maurice's gaze. There was a sincerity in his blue eyes that was not lost on Maurice.
"How did that happen?" Maurice asked.
"It was slow," the Beast said. "It seemed unlikely. The staff were rather...insistant on giving her a proper bedroom. Things were pretty tumultuous to start." The Beast paused, debating whether or not to bring up the first incident with the wolves. He decided to do so, and tried to do it delicately. "She did attempt an escape the first night. Fortunately the staff informed me and reminded me of the wolves, and it was night when they like to hunt. I got to her just in time that night and fought them off. She was unharmed, that time. But I had collapsed. I was sure she'd mount her horse and flee back home. But instead she came over to me and told me to stand so she could get me onto the horse. She brought me back and tended my wounds and stayed by my side a lot while I recuperated. There was a hard barrier around my heart to keep people out and it started crumbling away as she nursed me back to health. Then I found she liked to read, as do I, and we just gradually bonded until I realized I loved her."
"How..." Maurice was still confused, maybe even more so. "What happened here? So you take me prisoner, then her in my place, she tries to escape, you save her from wolves, she nurses you back to health, you bond over books, you realize you love her, you let her go. Then Philippe returns and you find the wolves actually had attacked her, you bring her back and are trying to nurse her back to health, you come get me out of the asylum. I feel like I have to be missing something. How does a terrible monster lock someone away for theft, fall in love with his daughter, then rescue her father who he sees as a common thief from another kind of incarceration?"
"I was a terrible monster then," the Beast said, remorse lacing his voice and shame filling his eyes. "I reacted with anger...rage even...over anything. I judged you, as I was used to judging people, on a single decision...a single act on your part. Something happened though that made me reevaluate that judgement."
"What happened?" Maurice asked.
"I showed Belle the portal book," the Beast said. "The one I used to get to you. I told her to think of and visualize the place she wanted to see. She took us...well she asked me to give you something." He stood and walked over to Maurice, putting a paw in his pocket. "When you see it I think you might know where she took us." From his pocket he produced the rose rattle and held it out to Maurice.
The Beast watched as recognition dawned on Maurice's face as he tentatively took the profferred rattle.
"Why did she choose that place?" Maurice asked. "She wanted to see where she lived her first few months?"
"Yes," the Beast said. "I think she hoped to learn what happened to her mother as well."
"Oh no," Maurice said. "Tell me there was nothing there to tell that tale."
"There was a discarded doctor's mask," the Beast said. "When I realized she had taken us to where she was born, I asked her what had happened to her mother. She said it was the one thing you couldn't tell her and she knew better than to ask. I could tell it was something she wanted to know. That's when I found the plague mask."
Maurice groaned.
"I had to abandon her mother to save her and myself," Maurice said, his voice filled with guilt. "The doctor, and even my suffering wife, insisted upon it. I left the rattle so she could hold something of us...of Belle at least, and...maybe feel a bit less alone. But she was alone. I had left her to die alone and what's worse I never knew how long she suffered before it ended. I couldn't tell Belle that. That I had abandoned her mother. I wish she hadn't found out. Now I understand why she doesn't want me near her."
The Beast was deeply moved by Maurice's very obvious guilt. The Beast knew first hand how agonizing guilt could be. At least his own guilt was right where it should be. He had done truly horrible things, including to the man he stood beside, and he knew it. Maurice's guilt? Completely misplaced from where Beast was standing, and Beast felt an overwhelming desire to alleviate it. Almost without thinking, he laid a paw on Maurice's shoulder.
Maurice flinched at the touch. The Beast had touched him twice before. Once to drag him up into the tower dungeon, then again to drag him out of it once Belle had taken his place. The Beast thought that perhaps he should withdraw his paw, but something told him to leave it there even though Maurice had tensed. Give Maurice time to realize this touch was different, meant to be comforting, healing. He knelt on the floor next to Maurice's chair to appear less imposingly large, and looked in Maurice's direction but avoided a full-on glance.
"You did what you had to do monsieur," the Beast said, his voice rumbling but gentle, quiet and soothing. "And I know Belle doesn't blame you or resent you for it. She's reluctant to have you see her in her state because she's afraid of the pain it would cause you. She did say last night that I could bring her to you if you insist, but not before I prepare you as best I can for what you would see. Her reluctance is out of concern for you. She has no ill feelings towards you about her mother."
A combination of the rose rattle, the soft voice, the extreme gentleness of the paw, and the sincerity that seemed to emanate from the Beast caused Maurice to relax. He even seemed to shift slightly to lean a bit into the paw. The Beast who had been so cruel at their first meeting, was now an unlikely source of comfort.
"How did she handle it?" Maurice asked. "Finding out about the plague?"
"It was...difficult," the Beast said. "Upsetting. But she handled it with dignity and I think she got some closure...knowing what happened finally."
"I should have told her shouldn't I?" Maurice asked sadly after a pause. "I suppose finding out via a discarded plague doctor's mask is not the ideal way to find out. Then again I can't say as I expected her to end up in that attic."
"Maybe not ideal," the Beast said softly. "But perhaps it was for the best. That's what made me realize I had misjudged you so badly. I told her I was sorry for calling you a thief. And I was. And I am."
"You had a right to be upset actually," Maurice said. "I did come onto private property and pluck a rose. I'm an artist. I paint, and make music boxes. I had painted a picture of my wife holding Belle before she fell ill," he held up the rattle, "and this. Every year I'd go sell my music boxes at an annual market. I'd ask her what she'd like me to bring her. Every year is the same I don't know why I keep asking. Every year her answer is, and I quote, word for word, 'a rose, like the one in the painting'. I commented actually that that's what she asks for every year. And she said every year I bring it. So I gave her my word I'd bring her another one. And I can assure you, every year, I buy a rose from a florist at the market. I do generally acquire a rose in the appropriate way. This year I never got to market. Lightning struck a tree and it fell into my path. I took another path thinking I could get there in a roundabout way. The snow in June was just a little bit unusual. Then I was chased by the not-so-friendly neighborhood wolf pack and that's how I found myself here. When I saw the roses I remembered I told Belle I'd bring her one. It didn't occur to me that taking one from private property was a bad idea...I wasn't thinking or I wouldn't have done it. It was a judgement lapse on my part. Technically, that was theft. You did have every right to object to that."
The Beast listened intently to Maurice's story. Hearing him willingly admit he had done something he shouldn't have, while the Beast appreciated the candor, actually made Beast feel worse about the rash conclusion he had drawn about Maurice. Common thieves aren't prone to seeing their thievery as wrong. Or caring that it is, anyway.
"A judgement lapse on your part did not warrant rage or cruelty on mine," he said quietly. "Actually after that visit to your old home I think is when I stopped seeing Belle as my prisoner. Though that sentiment was unspoken on my part and I think unrealized by Belle. I think it was around then that I realized I loved her."
"Why do you say you think it was unrealized by her?" Maurice asked.
The Beast sighed.
"The night I let her go," he explained, "I wanted to tell her that I loved her but I felt kind of...well you try telling someone that while looking like several different animals cobbled together. So I decided to feel her out a bit before actually saying it. So I commented that it was probably foolish for a creature like me to hope to earn her affection. She said she didn't know about that. So I asked if she thought she could be happy here. There was a pause, then she asked if it were possible for one to be happy when they're not free. And while I no longer really considered her my prisoner, I hadn't actually set her free officially. I probably should have told her at that point that I no longer saw her as a prisoner, but I was...afraid...of losing her." The Beast considered his words for a moment. He could not say that he hoped for her love to break the curse. "I had built up this barrier to keep people out to protect myself from pain. I loved my mother but she died when I was young. I loved my father but finally had to accept he really didn't love me. Then he died too, but not before raising me into a selfish, callous young adult, selfish and callous like him. So I figured out that when you love someone they may just hurt you. That's why I was unloving for so long. Was a combination of the type of person my father raised me to be and me being hurt by love that caused me to build that barrier. But Belle managed to get through my barrier and I found I loved her. So I was afraid to tell her she could go because she just might leave and never look back. But I could tell she missed you. I hoped looking in a mirror that lets its user see anything they like would help. But you were in a predicament with a mob so I knew I had to let her go. I think even without you being under duress I'd have realized fairly quickly I needed to officially set her free." The Beast sighed and bowed his head. "Wouldn't have done it at night though, or else encouraged her to wait until morning. In this situation she had to go by night...I climbed one of the turrets just to see her as long as possible. She finally faded from view and I was just left to grieve. Then Cogsworth came and told me Philippe had returned in a panic. He took me to her and..." the Beast paused. "She'd encountered wolves before at night and I knew this. I did her no good climbing the turret. I...I should have gone with her...I should have seen her safely through the forest."
"How is she?" Maurice asked.
"She's...stable," the Beast said. "That's the only way I'd leave her side for breakfast this morning after changing the bandaging and recleaning wounds. But I always have an ear out for the staff to summon me. Some wounds are infected and that's why she's feverish. She's in and out of consciousness. It's encouraging when she does come to but..." the Beast trailed off. His paw slid across to Maurice's opposite shoulder so his arm rested across both shoulders. He wished with every fiber of his being that his next words could be left unsaid. But in all honesty they had to be said. The Beast fought to keep his voice steady, though at times a slight quiver could be heard. "We are doing all we can. And her will is strong. She's fighting with everything she's got to live. But...at this point I...I cannot promise you that...that she'll...make it."
The Beast felt Maurice's shoulders sag under his arm. He pulled the man just a bit towards him in a slight hug. A single tear escaped an eye but Maurice kept himself otherwise composed.
"I have to see her," he whispered. "Please. If she's to die I must see her first."
"All right," the Beast said. "I'll take you to her. But first let me try to give you an idea of what you can expect to see."
As the Beast tried to prepare Maurice to see his daughter, he was relieved that Maurice did seem to realize that the Beast could be trusted. The Beast had succeeded, it seemed, in establishing rapport.