Chapter 7 – Deal With the Devil

Ger's first thought, upon entering the castle, was what in the world could have possessed his father to come in here. The place was dark and utterly deserted, with no sign of servants or even human habitation at all. That would explain, he mused, why no one in the village ever spoke about it, it must have been deserted for years on end and why would the villagers be interested in something that had happened at least a decade ago?

Ger, however, was fascinated. There was a giant, deserted castle all for him to explore and it was probably chock full of old books and strange gadgets. Perhaps, he reflected, that was how his father had ended up here. He had gotten lost and, upon seeing such a large and imposing edifice, just had to enter and explore. And had gotten distracted by the place, which would not surprise Ger in the least. Sometimes Ger wondered if his mother had had any influence on him at all while she was alive; he was so similar to his father in many ways.

Unbeknownst to Ger, his passage through the giant foyer was not going unnoticed. A little teacup watched curiously as Ger walked purposely through the room, searching in a cursory manner in case his father was, for whatever inexplicable reason, lurking in one of the corners. Ger completely overlooked Chip, though, which made sense since he was a little teacup.

It was only when Ger was lured out of the room by the sound of muffled voices that Chip dared to move. He darted out of the room and towards the kitchen.

"Mama," he said excitedly, "There's a man in the castle."

"Yes, Chip," Mrs. Potts said wearily. "Her Grace found him last night, remember."

"No, Mama," Chip said with exasperation. "Another one! And this one is big and tall! Do you think he'll want to play with me?"

"Oh, Chip," Mrs. Potts said, scooping up her son. "You shouldn't make up stories like that! I know its lonely here, but it's not fair to get everyone's hope-"

"No, really, Mama! I saw him!"

Mrs. Potts splashed him into the soapy tub before he could say another word. "It's time for your bath!" she said firmly, indicating that the subject was closed.

Fortunately for Chip, however, Ger's passage through the castle had been observed by other servants as well.

"Have you heard the news?" exclaimed the feather duster as she sashayed into the kitchen.

"What is it, Babette?" asked Mrs. Potts.

"There is a man in the castle! A big, strong, ever-so-good-looking man!" Babette grinned widely.

"See!" Chip said happily. "I told you!"

Ger, of course, had no idea what sort of consternation his trip through the castle was causing. He was calling out sporadically, trying to get his father to respond. He hoped to hear Maurice's voice, or any voice for that matter, to give him some indication of where to go next in the mazelike stone halls of the castle. It was, actually, the sound of voices that drew him down a certain corridor. He had been convinced that the castle was deserted, but now was not so sure.

The voice Ger heard was emanating from an extremely irate clock, who was giving Lumiere quite the talking to for his behavior last night. Cogsworth had begun by explaining to Lumiere just what was so wrong with his behavior, but had now moved on to insulting him outright.

"Irresponsible, devil-may-care, waxy-eared, slacked jawed-"

"Papa?" Ger called out, hardly daring to hope that the voice he heard in the distance was his father.

Both objects went still and silent. Ger walked slowly through the room, his keen eyes searching for any sign of his father or any other human being at all. Of course, he found none, and so passed through the hall and out the doorway on the other side.

"Did you see that?" Lumiere hissed excitedly.

"Of course I did," Cogsworth moaned. "Another intruder, can you imagine what Her Grace will do now?"

"Mon ami," Lumiere said with a shake of his head, "You did not see what I saw."

Cogsworth sputtered indignantly. "Of course I did, you wax-brained nincompoop! I saw a gentleman…" He paused as Lumiere glared at him and it sank in "…a tall, young, good-looking gentleman."

"Exactly, "Lumiere said with satisfaction, "Something tells me our mistress will react quite differently to the sight of him."

Cogsworth stared at Lumiere in disbelief, before shaking his head and turning away. "In any case, we must ensure that he remains in the castle."

"And our best hope for that is to lead him to his father, don't you think?"

Before the clock could even open his mouth to tell Lumiere off, the candelabrum was up and running, heading right after their latest intruder. With a long-suffering sigh, Cogsworth set off on his heels.

Ger heard the creak of a door and whirled around in the direction of the sound. The light patter of feet confirmed it for him. Someone was wandering around this castle. "Papa?" Ger called out expectantly. There was no answer, but the footsteps continued to recede, so Ger set off after them. Even if he was following someone other than his father, at least he was following someone. Maybe that someone could help him out.

"It's working," Lumiere hissed excitedly to Cogsworth as the two of them tramped down the hall, trying to make as much noise as possible in order to simulate the gait of a full sized man.

"And where are you two off to?" purred a voice on their left. Both Lumiere and Cogsworth gasped aloud at hearing their mistress's voice.

"Say something," Lumiere muttered, elbowing Cogsworth in what would have been his ribs.

"We, um, were…looking for you!" Cogsworth finally stammered out.

"Oh really?" Alix said, raising one eyebrow. "What for?"

Ger noticed that voices had replaced the sound of footsteps and sped up.

"Yes," Cogsworth continued, warming to the idea. "We absolutely needed to find you because something strange has happened."

"And you couldn't deal with it yourself because..?"

"Well, Your Grace, it is rather complicated." Cogsworth took a deep breath and prepared to do what he was best at—drone on.

"Thank you, mon ami," Lumiere said fervently as he doubled back, not envying the clock in the slightest when he thought of what the mistress's response would be when she realized she was being distracted. But it would be terrible for the boy to run straight into the mistress and run away in fright. It would be better to give him a reason to stick around.

Lumiere waited until the boy was literally walking past before pushing open a door and stomping through.

Ger stopped in his tracks; the sound of the door creaking just a few feet away had startled him. There were still voices coming from up ahead, but he had been after them for a while, and didn't seem to be drawing any nearer, while there seemed to be another denizen of this castle a couple yards hence.

He turned in through the just opened door and through a passageway or three, always just far enough behind so that he could not see his quarry.

Lumiere gasped for breath as he reached the stairs up to the tower; the boy was surprisingly fast and he was not in the same shape he had been ten years earlier. He leapt up the stairs and, struck by a brilliant idea, jumped into one of the small alcoves along the curving stone wall of the spiral staircase that was perfectly suited to hold a candelabrum.

Ger was right on his heels, still occasionally calling for his father in the somewhat vain hope that he would get a response. He was getting more and more annoyed at the unseen inhabitants of the castle who seemed perfectly content to ignore his calls.

He was halfway up the stairs of the tower, convinced that he had his quarry cornered, when he stopped to grab the lit candelabrum in the niche. His hand was unsteady and though he did not knock it over, the lamp rattled in its niche.

Maurice was sitting despondently in his cell. Though it had barely been twelve hours since he had been incarcerated, it felt like days. He was cold and still damp, shivering in the bluish white light that filtered through the high, barred windows. It didn't feel any warmer than the night, despite the increased light, and Maurice felt his chest tightening and his nose becoming stuffier as the hours went on. He sniffled and blew his nose on an already sodden handkerchief he kept in his pockets. If he were the sort to despair, he would be wishing for death by now. But that was not Maurice's way; he was more concerned about the young man he had left home and how upset Ger would be when he found out what had happened.

A clatter on the stairs attracted his attention. Maurice looked up in surprise. "Is anyone there?" he asked, half dreading the response.

Ger did drop the candelabrum at that point and bolted up the stairs. "Papa?" he called out, hoping his father's voice would respond once again. And this time, Maurice did reply. He called his son's name in a disbelieving voice as Ger rounded the corner and skidded to a dead stop in the middle of the dungeon.

"Papa, what have you done?" Ger demanded.

Maurice couldn't help but chuckle weakly at his son's words, though the laugh quickly became a hacking cough. "Don't worry about that," he said, with a wave of his hand. "You have-"

"Good point," Ger interrupted. "First priority is to get you out of here. Are the keys anywhere around here?"

"Ger, listen to me," Maurice began desperately.

"Probably not, that sort of idiocy only occurs in bad theatre. What about a crowbar? I wonder if one of those is nearby."

"Ger, you have to get out of here!"

"Don't worry, we will. This'll only take a minute."

"No, Ger, it's too dangerous."

Ger looked up. "Too dangerous? The only danger I can see is of you freezing to death."

"Trust me, Ger, this place is far more perilous than even you can handle."

Ger shook his head and pulled out his pocketknife in order to try and pick the lock.

"Ger, you have to get out of here!" Maurice protested, the panic in his voice rising.

"Why?" Ger asked, well on his way to being convinced that the chill had addled his father's wits.

"This place, it's dangerous. It's ruled over by a-"

"By a what?" Ger interrupted, impatient with the lock that just would not give.

"By a Beast," purred a voice at Ger's back.

Gervaise Dupont had the presence of mind to shift the grip on his pocketknife as he turned around slowly to face the interloper. Maurice moaned in terror—he didn't care what happened to himself, but the thought that this monster would hurt Ger was something he couldn't bear. Maurice was not a violent man, but were it not for the heavy wood and iron door, he would have flung himself at that beast and fought it with his bare hands if it meant giving Ger a chance to escape.

"Hello," said the Beast in a soft, rumbling voice that shook Ger to his very bones. "I don't believe we've met. I'm the Beast, this is my castle."

Ger stared at the Beast in disbelief. Perhaps he had spent too long in University, for all he could think of was that the sight before him was impossible. This creature—part bear, part lion, all too human and wearing, of all things, a purple dress—simply could not exist.

"Now it's your turn," the Beast continued. "You introduce yourself, tell me what you are doing trespassing in my castle."

"Rescuing my father," Ger answered immediately. The reminder that his father was still trembling in his cell was enough to shake him out of his thoughts. Impossible or not, this creature was endangering Maurice's life and Ger would not stand for that.

"Really?" asked the Beast. "Who are you to question my judgment?"

"Who are you to lock a man up for no good reason?"

"He trespassed. That's reason enough."

"But it's freezing! He's going to die if you leave him in here!" Ger nearly screamed.

Alix stared at him, words from a lifetime ago echoing in her head. As clear as crystal and as deadly cold as ice, she heard the wavering voice of the enchantress begging for shelter, pleading not to die. And even further in the distance, she remembered her mother's screams and her father's shouts, washing through the palace like the waves of the sea, unending and unforgiving. It had been so long, so very long since she had last thought of her parents. She had almost forgotten what losing them had felt like.

"Please," said Ger, taking the opportune silence to beg for his father's life for he knew, with all his bravado, that he would never be able to face down this monster. "There must be something I can do."

"You can't do anything!" the Beast snarled. "No one can ever do anything! Now get out of my sight before I lock you up as well."

An idea sparked in Ger's mind. "I'll make you a deal," he said, mastering the quaver of fear in his voice. "Let my father go and I'll stay in his place."

"What?" Alix asked, convinced she hadn't heard correctly.

"What?" Maurice nearly shouted, convinced his son had lost his mind.

"He goes free, I'll stay. Do we have a bargain?"

"Gervaise Dupont, don't you dare go through with this."

"Why?" Alix asked softly, stepping forward into the gleam of moonlight that shone through a hole in the rooftop. Ger did not even flinch as the bluish glow cast the Beast's craggy features into even sharper relief and made her look all the more terrible. "Why would you suffer to remain here, under the thumb of a monster, who would as soon kill a man as look at him?"

"Wouldn't you, if you were in my place?" Ger answered, and then cursed his own fast-moving tongue. What would a monster know of familial obligations, of honor and duty?

Alix stared at her new prisoner, looking for any signs of deception, any lie in his voice. He seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying and she remembered, oh how she remembered the pain of losing her parents and the dreadful wish that she could have been taken in that blaze instead of them. She cringed, half wanting to make this boy feel what she felt for the past seven years and half sympathetic to his plight.

She had no recollection of making the decision, all she could recall was walking towards the door, the boy scrambling to get out of her way, and literally ripping it open. The old man shrunk back against the edges of the cell. "Please don't do this," he whimpered. "Please spare my son!"

"He's no longer your concern," Alix snapped, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pulling him out of the cell. Ger didn't even have a chance to protest Maurice's rough treatment at the Beast's hands before they were out of the room. Ger nearly got up to follow them out, but remembered in time that he was now a prisoner and it would be foolish for him to leave his gaol. Still, he stared out the window at the driveway leading up to the castle and winced as his father was manhandled into some strange contraption and sent back home to the village.

The Beast was back in the dungeon in a trice, but Ger did not take the time to marvel at her travel speed. "You didn't have to be so rough with him," Ger growled at her. She growled back, baring her teeth, and turned her back on him.

"Your Grace," said a quiet voice by Alix's feet. She knelt to pick up the candelabrum, who had born witness to the events and was madly racking his brains for any way to salvage the situation.

"Yes, Lumiere?" Alix responded, though her gaze remained focused on Ger, who was busy staring at the small speck in the distance that was his father's conveyance.

"What plans do you have for the boy?"

Alix smiled wolfishly. "Well, since he was so anxious to take his father's place, I say we leave him here." And she began her descent.

"But-" Lumiere began, though he was cut off by the full force of his mistress's glare.

"You have something to add?"

Seven year ago, Lumiere would never have dared respond; none of the palace staff would have. Things, though, had changed since then and Lumiere did not like to see their best and last hope left up in a dungeon to rot. Besides, the worst that the Princess could do at this point was dent him.

"Well, I was just thinking that, since the boy is going to be with us for quite some time, you might want to treat him a bit better than a filthy straw bed and a frozen tower."

"He made his bed," Alix said with a sniff, "Let him lie in it."

"I don't think he realized quite how uncomfortable that bed is going to be," Lumiere said ruefully.

"That, monsieur, is not my problem." The drawl in Alix's voice made Lumiere shut his mouth with a snap and the topic was not broached again, though Alix did not forget her maitre'd's words.

"I cannot believe I am doing this," she muttered, fifteen minutes later as she climbed the stairs to the dungeon once again, this time with a mercifully non-sentient candle in her hands. She still had no intention of letting the boy leave the dungeon, but Lumiere's worried tone signified to her that maybe there was a good reason to let him down.

Ger was sitting in the corner, still gazing out the window with a distracted air. Alix tried to tiptoe into the room so as not to disturb his reverie, but she was out of practice, insofar as tiptoeing was concerned.

"Did you have to send him away so quickly?" Ger said to the footfalls behind him. "I didn't have a chance to say goodbye."

Alix looked at her new prisoner; his words made her think he was about to burst into tears, but his eyes were calm and dry.

"I wanted him out of here," Alix answered Ger. "As did you, if I recall correctly."

"I would have still liked to have bid him farewell," Ger responded. Ger was exhausted from not having slept the night before, from having ridden hell for leather to find his father and from having faced down the Beast and won. He just wanted to curl up and sleep, the morning would come soon enough and he would deal with this unholy mess then. There would be time to scream, time to snarl, time to fight his fate soon enough. But now, all he really wanted was a warm bed. Failing that, a cold bed would have to do.

Ger rolled over on the straw, his back to the Beast. Alix still watched his every move with a strange fascination. His presence here was extremely displeasing to her, but she could think of nothing to do about that. She was even tempted to send him away, but she didn't dare let him go. He was the only human left in this place and he, at least looked intelligent enough to carry on a conversation.

And it doesn't hurt that he is quite impressively built, commented a sly voice in the back of her mind. Alix suppressed that thought ruthlessly, though it was perfectly true. She didn't have time for foolishness like that.

"Are you still there?" Ger yawned, hoping that the Beast would go away and let him rest in peace.

Alix wanted to retort in some brilliant, witty manner. What she actually said was "I've been preparing your room for you, since you seem to think the tower so unhealthy."

"If it was good enough for my father-" Ger began pointedly.

"Yes, and that was back when the cell had a lock."

"It's not my fault you ripped the door off."

Heaven help her, Alix was ready to rip his arm off. What did he think he was doing, sassing the beast? "No," she growled through gritted teeth. "It's not. Now get up and follow me before I have to drag you out by your pretty brown hair!"

Ger rose languidly, giving Alix another not-wholly unappreciated view of his physique. "As you wish, Milady."

"I am no Lady," Alix hissed, staring him full in the face. "I am the Beast! You will address me as such and you would be wise not to forget it."

Ger nodded in response, perfectly cowed by his hostess's sudden reaction. It was an all too real reminder that this wasn't a game; this was his life with which he was being so profligate.

Tomorrow, he yawned, covering his mouth as he followed the Beast down the halls. I'll deal with all this tomorrow. He made his way past the legions of gargoyles who flanked the halls, but he was too tired to spare them more than a cursory glance. He paid almost no attention to his surroundings until he nearly tripped over the Beast, who had stopped in her tracks before a perfectly ordinary door.

"This is your room," she said. Ger nodded sleepily. "You are confined to the castle and the grounds, set one foot outside my gate and I will not be answerable for the consequences. You are welcome to go anywhere you like in the castle, except the West Wing."

"Why?" Ger asked without thinking.

"Because I said so," Alix answered with a low growl in her voice.

"No, why aren't you locking me in? Why are you letting me roam the castle freely, but you lock up my fath-"

"Because you chose this exile!" Alix roared at him. "You didn't have to do the right thing, you could have left your father-"

"To die?" Ger exclaimed. "What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"What kind of a monster do you think I am?" Alix screamed back, "That I would kill a man for seeking shelter from a storm. He was to have been set free tonight and sent home!"

Ger stared at his gaoler in astonishment. Alix shook her head, yanked open the door, shoved Ger in and slammed it behind her, leaving the poor boy staring at the blank mahogany wood as he heard the Beast storm off.

"To hell with this," he groaned. "I've had enough for one day." He sank down on the bed and, without even removing his boots, he slipped into a troubled sleep, filled with all the nightmares that he had refused to think about before going to bed.

He hoped, when he awoke, that he would find it all to be a dream. But that is one of those hopes that is ever doomed to go unfulfilled.

T.B.C.

A/N – I seem to have picked up quite a few more readers recently, so hello to you all! Umm, issues to address…

I was having a hard time trying to get Alix and Ger to do what they were supposed to do until I stopped trying to think of them as having to do what they are supposed to do, if that makes sense. Alix, in particular, did not fit well with most of the stuff that the Beast does. Part of that is an acknowledgment of character difference – his main issue is an angry heart while her issue is a cold heart. So he does things without thinking, like lock up an old man for trespassing because he made him angry. While Alix should have a little more sense than that, but she does things as an ongoing attempt to remain aloof and above and arrogant. She's hard because, sometimes more than the Beast, her actions really do need to be calculated and the movie is not geared towards making that easier. But I think everything here makes sense so far, though I am more than open to criticism if any of you disagree.

Also, this will be remarked upon several times, mostly because I'm still trying to explain it—when the enchanted objects get to act and behave and use their lines from the movies. They will, I can't help it. They are characterized by the movie so it is often their behavior in the movie that best fits a given circumstance. Dialogue is easy to change, as long as they're not talking to someone unchanged. But, for example, it's hard to come up with a new argument for Lumiere and Cogsworth when the old one is so much fun.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and will forgive me the length of time between updates. I have no excuses as usual, just the general reassurance that the few people who would be willing to hunt me down and force me to update would have to cross the Atlantic first.