RB Ch.8: Don't Go

The important thing is not that we can live on hope alone, but that life is not worth living without it. - Harvey Milk


I sat there on the blood stained grass, holding her tightly in my arms. I rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm, the sobs racking my chest until it ached. I squeezed my eyelids shut to block the sight of her pale face and bloody dress from my vision. "Please God," I prayed, "Rip this bleeding heart from my chest if it will save her from Death's cruel hand!" I rasped.

"Oh dear!" gasped a female voice. Startled, I whirled around. A gypsy woman wearing dark clothing and a red scarf over her grey hair stood there gazing down at me with disbelieving eyes. "Did you do all this?" she asked. Her voice sounded very familiar to me, but I could not place where I'd heard it before. I nodded slowly then turned back to Belle. "You really did a number on those fellas!" she laughed , putting a pipe in her mouth. "I don't blame you one bit. Those damned highwaymen are the scum of the earth. Good riddance to them!" "Please madam, we need you help. My wife is badly injured." She crouched down beside me and looked Belle over. "That she is." she whispered, the wrinkles of her forehead crumpling. She turned her head and made a bird call that sounded a lot like a hawk and several other figures made their way towards us. An entire band of gypsies soon surrounded us. She called two men over and told them to take Belle to their camp. They tried to take her from me but I wouldn't let them. Knowing better than to fight with me, they let me carry her and I followed them back to their camp.

When we came to the group of tents, I heaved a sigh of relief. Now Belle would get the help she so desperately needed! The old gypsy woman led me to her tent and ordered me to lay Belle down on her cot. I laid her down and sat next to her, holding her hand. The woman grabbed some herbs, a crusher, and a bowl, then knelt down beside me to assess Belle's wound. "Why don't you go wait outside, Sir? You look like you're about to wretch. I'll come get you when I'm through here." "No" I rasped. She took my chin in her wrinkled, gnarled hand and turned my face towards her, "Go, you've done all you can do for her. Let me tend to her now." Reluctantly, I left Belle's side and went to retrieve Grim and our goods from the place where we had camped.

I was relieved to find that Grim and all our things were still there. Grim must've realized how dire our situation was, because his head hung sadly. He looked how I felt. I pet Grim's nose and held his big head against my chest. "There, there, boy. It'll be okay. You'll see. Belle will be just fine." I said, nearly choking on my lie as it left my mouth. Belle had lost so much blood. I could see no silver lining. I saw no hope. In my heart, I knew that Belle was going to die and that I would once again be left alone. Although I wished with everything I had that things were different. The fact was, I couldn't save her. No matter how hard I fought. There's no fighting fate.

I pat Grim's flank and, taking his reigns in my blood stained hand, I led him back to the gypsies' camp to wait for news on Belle's condition. When I arrived, I tied Grim to a tree and sat down on a log outside the old woman's tent to watch the sun rise. I couldn't tell you the last time I had done so. It's amazing how even the simplest act of nature can take you breath away. But it held no beauty for me today. To me, the sky was as dark and dismal as my thoughts. As the sun rose higher into the sky, more and more gypsies emerged from their makeshift homes to begin their day. The children ran around me, giggling, as if I didn't exist. One little girl came close enough that I could see the small diamond pattern on her shawl. "What are you?" she asked in a high soprano voice. "What do I look like?" I growled, burying my face in my hands. She reached out and pried my hands away from my face so that she could see it in all its horrid glory. She smiled sweetly and touched my cheek. Her innocent beauty reminded me so much of Belle. "You're a man." she cooed. Her smile vanished and her brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight, "A man in a lot of pain, but a man all the same." she said. "Thank you" I croaked, swallowing hard to wet my dry throat. "I hope your wife gets better soon." she said. She gave me another bright, comforting smile then skipped back to her friends. I hid my face in my hands again so that the gypsies wouldn't see me weep.

"Sir?" I heard the old woman say. I quickly wiped my face on my sleeve and stood up so that I at least appeared as though I still had some dignity. "How is she? Will she be alright?" I croaked. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to stop my body from trembling. She hung her head and shook it from side to side. Deep within myself I felt my heart rip in half. "She's…dead…isn't she?" I gasped, fighting with all my might to keep from falling to my knees. "She's alive,…but…" I rushed towards her and grabbed her arms. I ignored her repulsed expression as I burrowed my eyes into hers, seeking the bad thing she was hiding from me. "What?" I barked at her, shaking her arms slightly. "There was some internal damage. I think she will survive, but I'm afraid she will no longer be able to have children." I didn't know whether to cry with joy or despair. On one hand Belle would live and the other she couldn't have the children she'd always wanted. What was worse was that it was all my fault. "Is she awake?" I asked in a defeated rasp. The old woman nodded without a word and I ran to the tent where Belle lay waiting.

"Belle?" I called as I parted the tent doors. "Beast?" I heard Belle whisper in a very weak voice. I collapsed beside her and grasped her hand in my quivering hold. "Belle, I'm so sorry!" I sobbed into her shoulder. Her other hand came to rest on my head and I felt her gentle touch stroke my scarred scalp. "It'll be alright, my darling." she cooed in my ear, resting her head against mine. "No, no it won't. It'll never be okay." "What in the world are you talking about?" she whispered, touching my cheek. I sat up and looked away from her pale face. "The old woman she said…she said you won't be able to children." Once the truth left my lips, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming out loud, as the crushing guilt pressed against me. The pain got worse as Belle began to sob.

I sat by her as she and I wept for the future we had both longed for as it was swept away by the swift tides of fate. My poor Belle…she cried herself to sleep. Why?, I asked myself for the thousandth time. I had been so close to a happy new life. I could practically taste it. I should've known that happy endings were not for men like me. The Beast is always the villain not the hero. Killers don't get to live happily ever after. That stupidity only belongs in children's fairy tales. It doesn't exist in the real world, where war, pain, and misery are apart of every day life. I knew I didn't deserve to be happy, but Belle did. She deserved so much more than that. Instead, she was cursed along with me. Why? Because she dared to love me? It just wasn't fair.

"Here drink this." said the old woman as she entered the tent, carrying tin cups with steam rising above them. It smelled of coffee. I took a cup from her and stared into the pitch black liquid. "Go on. I fixed it just like you like it. Strait black, no sugar. Isn't that right, Prince Erik?" I nearly dropped the cup of boiling hot coffee on my lap. "H-how do you know me?" I stuttered, my mind racing. "Your face may be burned beyond recognition, but your eyes are the same as they always were. I'd never forget those eyes. Those are the queen's eyes. Your mother's eyes. Of course, that big ox of a horse, was a dead give away." she giggled, mischievously. I narrowed my eyes at her. Who the hell was this woman? And how did she know my mother? The woman smirked at me and took a sip of her coffee. "I'm hurt that you don't remember me, Little Beast." She chuckled, as she said my mother's pet name for me. I took a gulp of my coffee, let the bitter taste of it linger on my tongue and burn away the tightness of my throat, then swallowed. "You have exactly two seconds to tell me who you are." I said threateningly. "Why its, Agatha of course! Your nurse?" A vision of a much younger version of the old gypsy before me passed across my memory. I remembered her now. My mother was a very frail woman and she was sick for most of the time. Agatha had been hired to help her care for me, since I was the most …uh…troublesome of the three children. "I remember." I said lowly, taking another sip of coffee.

Agatha smiled, "I thought you had died in the fire with the rest of the royal family. It is good to see you still alive, Erik." I turned my head to look at Belle once more. She slept now, but tears still streaked down her cheek, "Is it?" I asked Agatha. So far, I'd say that my living was a bad thing. Agatha turned to look at Belle as well, "You love her very much." she observed. I chuckled bitterly, "Yea, the poor girl." Agatha shook her head, "Same old, Little Beast." She sighed, "You always did think the world revolved around you." I shot her a deadly glare. "Not everything is your fault. That highwayman did this to her, not you. So stop blaming yourself." I sat my coffee tin down on the ground beside me and rested my head in my palm. "It is my fault. That blade was meant for me. She saved me." I whispered. "That was her choice then. She wished to save you. You didn't force her to do it. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself. Honestly, what would your father say?" I jumped to my feet and threw the tin out the tent. It skidded across the dusty earth and landed in a fir pit. Sparks flew into the night sky as the flames ignited with the metal cup. "Who gives a damn! My father's dead! Everyone's dead! They're all dead because of ME! If I hadn't burned down all those villages, none of this would have happened. My family would be alive and I'd still have my throne! Don't tell me this isn't my fault!" I raged. Agatha looked at me, her face holding an expression of understanding. She got up and folded her arm around me in a comforting embrace. I knew she was trying to help, but frankly, I didn't want it. I shoved her away and stalked out the tent, towards Grim.

"Where are you going?" Agatha huffed, walking quickly after me. "I'm heading back to Saint Elswick's to have Grim re-shoed then I'm going home. Do me a favor and take Belle back to her father in Rosaria Town. I'm done ruining her life." I grumbled as I took Grim's reigns and began leading him away. Agatha rushed to block my path. "You can't just leave like this without telling her what's going on! At least tell her goodbye, Erik! You owe her that much." I let out a heavy sigh. I was afraid of this. I handed her Grim's reigns and walked back to the tent. Taking a deep breath, I went inside.

Belle was awake now. Unfortunately. Why can't anything be easy? "Hi, Beast." She croaked with a smile. "How are you feeling?" I asked as I came to crouch beside her. "Better." She said, there was still a tent of sadness in her voice. "That's good…listen…um, Belle…I think I should…leave you here with the gypsies. Once you're better they'll take you back home to your family. They can take care of you better than I can." I said, unable to look her in the eye. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "I-I don't understand. You're leaving?" I nodded. "You're coming back for me, right?" she asked, her voice cracking. I shook my head slowly, my heart aching. "No…I can't do this to you anymore, Belle. I love you too much. I don't want to put you through anymore pain. You're better off with your family. Just go home and forget about me. You'll be a lot happier." I turned to leave, but she stopped me when her hand caught me by the ankle. "No! No, I won't let you leave me behind! I don't understand!" she screeched, tears pouring from angry eyes. "You begged me to stay with you! I heard you! You didn't want me to leave you! So why are you leaving me?" She looked up at me with pleading eyes, "Don't Go! I need you, Beast! Please, don't go!" That was it for me. I fell to my knees and took her up in my arms. I held her tightly against me. I kissed her hair, her wet cheeks, her quivering lips. Who was I kidding? I couldn't leave her. I could never let her go. We needed each other even more than we realized.

Time passed and Belle grew stronger and stronger by the day. We were now inseparable. She wouldn't let me out of her sight. Not that I wanted to be. "How much longer do we have to stay here?" Asked Belle in an exasperated tone after our fourth week. "We'll leave soon as Agatha says you're ready." I replied with a smirk as I handed her a tin of coffee, loaded with sugar and milk. She sipped at the warm drink and smiled at me, her cheeks flushed rosy pink. "I've been thinking…" I began as I stirred my coffee. "Perhaps when we return home, I could do some repairs on the castle. Get it looking descent at least. Maybe, I could add some more rose bushes in the courtyard. It used to me engulfed in them back in the day. You could help me tend to them, once you're fully recuperated." She grinned happily, "That would be wonderful!" She leaned over and pecked my cheek. I turned my face and kissed her full lips. The sweet taste of her made my head swirl. She rested her hand on my cheek and looked deeply into my eyes with sheer love, "Thank you for staying with me, Beast." I shook my head, took her hand and kissed it. "No, Belle, thank you for not leaving me."