A/N- POV change in this chapter.


Belle had truly begun to settle into life in an enchanted castle. When she first arrived, she had cried herself to sleep each night, believing she had doomed herself to this prison, a place where she had lost all hope and any dreams she'd ever had for a happily ever after. But, the servants were kind and anxious to please, and they treated her more as a guest than a prisoner. The Beast, though terrifyingly temperamental at first, had become quite liveable after the whole "running away/ west wing" incident. In fact, Belle would go so far as to call him... companionable at times, and she found herself less and less wary about spending the rest of her life here.

As the days wore on and she fought the occasional bout of claustrophobia and frustration, the Beast gently convinced her she simply needed to re-evaluate her situation. She lived in a castle- not a dungeon. Servants tended to her every need nearly before she could even voice it, and there were so many rooms to explore and manifestations of the enchantment that every day was extraordinarily different from the last. And she did have all the grounds of the bewitched castle to satiate her natural curiosity. She'd even made a few friends in Mrs. Potts, Lumière, Chip, Cogsworth, and a few of the others who were quick with a smile and a helping hand.

And eventually, sensing a trace of wariness still lingering about her, the Beast even gifted her an entire library- books upon books to consume, and all the free hours she wished to consume them. Belle was delighted to explore the worlds they offered, content to sit and read, even offering to share stories with the Beast. He generally declined, but he did ensure she would only be interrupted for meals, which he deman- no, requested be shared with him. So captivated was she by the innumerable tomes at her disposal and the magic in the very air around her, eventually she stopped looking past the gates longingly to the world beyond.

After all, she realized as she curled up by the fire with her enchanted little audience as she prepared to read them another fairy tale, the Beast had been kind enough to give her anything she'd asked for. He never bothered her nor really requested anything of her but her presence at mealtime, when he often presented her a new gown or expensive gift when she mentioned missing her father or a part of her old life. He didn't lose his temper as frequently as before, and she had become accustomed to his fierce rage when he did. Perhaps the castle wasn't as bad as she'd first imagined, nor its master quite the terrible Beast she had previously seen.

She opened once more to the first page of her still-favourite book, becoming engrossed in its charm yet again and enjoyed a new, loose version of her own happily ever after.