You have questions, I know. And they're going to be answered here.
I wanted to play around with the concept of an Enchantress, so keep your seatbelts buckled and your inquiries on hold.
DISCLAIMER: Nothing, nada, zip. (Except for Eliese, how we hate her all).
The blizzard had begun to dwindle over the course of a day, until it had become nothing but a gentle snowfall during the late afternoon. Belle watched from the shelter of her cottage roof as Chapeau mounted his horse and waved to her. She couldn't help but muster a charming wave back as Cogsworth exited the door, donning his coat and fixing his wig; bringing the majordomo into an embrace, she could only sigh into his shoulder as they broke from each other. Never had she felt the reserved and prudent Cogsworth this tense.
"I hope Lumière won't be much of a trouble to you," the majordomo sighed. "I know he only wants to stay to help you, but please send him back if you feel like he's causing too much trouble." A huff left him. "That means I'll expect him tonight, at the latest."
That garnered a laugh from Belle. "Oh, I'm sure he won't be a problem." She stayed silent for a while as Cogsworth fixed the collars of his jacket. "I'm sorry too, by the way."
Cogsworth blinked. "About what?"
"About…not giving you a Christmas gift; I'm so sorry, it's just that I didn't expect you to come at all. If only I'd known that you were going to show up at my door…"
Cogsworth, unusually, gave her a warm smile and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're back in the fight to win over the Master from the curse. That's more than enough to repay the whole castle staff."
Belle felt her heart glow as she said her final goodbyes to both Cogsworth and Chapeau, waving until they disappeared into the path leading out of the village towards the Prince's castle, where they were sure to encounter more than a dastardly curse. She just hoped that she had gifted them with enough courage and confidence to brave the trials that awaited them.
As Maurice was busy cooking up another warm bowl of soup in the kitchen and Lumière was reading up on The Nature of Spells and Magicks that she had taken from the Prince's estate, Belle was seated on the bed, watching as the old woman drank the last of her soup du jour, covered by blankets and sweaters as the fireplace roared on beside her.
"Feeling better?" Belle asked tenderly.
"Yes, very much," Agathe replied, setting the bowl down on the bedside table and giving her a smile. "I can't thank you enough for saving me like that."
Belle wanted to say you're welcome, but then she had too much queries pushing against her tongue to get the words out. It had taken two days for Agathe to recover to the state she was in right now, but she was still bedridden and had to depend on multiple bowls of soup and hot cups of tea to keep herself warm. In that span of time, Belle was trying to put together the mystery of the Princess and Adam's new curse by herself, but she knew that she had to implore Agathe's help. But where to start?
"I know you have questions," Agathe said, looking at the fire. "I'll try to answer them as best as I can."
Belle didn't know what to begin with, but the first thing that came to her mind was enough. "What…is the Princess?"
"Ah, Hanneliese," Agathe gave a sad smile, as if recalling a sad memory. "You call her as you call me: an Enchantress."
"So we were right," Belle felt a little victory well up in her chest for her and the servant's efforts for pinpointing that correctly. "But there's…more of you?"
Agathe nodded. "There are only seven of us that can exist at a given time, and Hanneliese and I are two of those seven. See, dear Belle, we're not exactly immortal, nor are we human beings."
Belle's brows knitted in confusion, trying to take it all in. "So…what are you?"
Agathe opened her palms, and tiny yellow sparks emerged from her fingertips as she cast little images into the air, forming outlines of creatures from those tiny lights. With a wave of her hand, the beams aligned themselves to form seven women standing in a straight line. Belle could only gasp in amazement.
"Your kind used to call my ancestors angels, some demons, others witches," Agathe explained, a kind light in her gold eyes. "But I prefer Enchantress, it has a much more magical tone to it. We are celestial beings sent to humanity to purge it of the seven sins that are destined to plague it, each Enchantress corresponding to one sin."
As the seven women descended onto a group of sparks made to look like a crowd, Belle blinked, astonished. "So what's the sin assigned to you?"
A flick of her wrist, and the sparks changed to make themselves into the picture of a lavish castle, and inside the castle, a bumptious and extravagant prince danced with hundreds of women in profligate gowns inside a sparkling ballroom. Then an old woman entered the doors, offering a rose in her withered hand in front of the disgruntled prince. Then as he denied her, the old woman's cloak faded away to give birth to the shining image of an Enchantress, who, with little lights billowing from her mouth, turned the frightened prince into a hideous and horned beast.
"Pride," Agathe said as Belle watched the story of Adam unfold before her. "That Prince was too haughty, self-indulgent, vain and unkind, so I made him humble. I cast that spell upon him to right his wrongs and purge the sin from his life."
Then the sparks whirled around the beast and he was suddenly a human, happy and content. Belle couldn't help but giggle as the prince spun around jovial in his newfound state.
"That's my job," Agathe continued as the prince was joined with a young maiden, and they danced together through the air, her deft fingers guiding them. "I find people who are too arrogant, too peremptory, and I strip them down so they may find modesty and meekness."
Belle was slowly beginning to understand. "So what's the Princess' sin?"
"Lust," Agathe replied, and the sparks formed the shape of a heart. "But, sadly, she is still young and prone to abuse her powers."
"Young?" Belle was once again confused. "But I thought that you were celestial creatures."
"But I did say that we weren't immortal," Agathe explained, and her index finger spun around as the sparks formed the image of an old woman, who began to wither away on a deathbed. "We Enchantresses live very long—as I am nearly a century old—but we are still afflicted by age. At the very moment we die, our duties pass on to the next human being that is born at that exact moment."
Then, in the spark image, the tiny lights flew around the old woman, and as she died, they immediately went flying across the space to surround a couple whose baby was crying in the mother's arms, the flashes making the baby glow as it giggled.
"Hanneliese is still learning," Agathe said sombrely. "She has discovered what her powers can do and abuses them to satisfy her needs, not to help those afflicted by things like lovesickness."
"I think it's safe to say she's infected with lovesickness herself," Belle cracked a smile, and the Enchantress laughed.
"I had learned she was coming to France," Agathe closed her palms and the sparks faded away into nothingness, "so I was called to the north to seek her out before she could do any damage. But she knew I was coming, somehow, and trapped me in a snowstorm for days. I was just lucky that I was able to survive; without you, I don't know if I could have gotten out of there."
Belle looked to the fire and wanted to get lost in the way it danced. They stayed silent for a while as Agathe closed her eyes, and seemed to meditate on the crackling of the fireplace.
"You…" Belle began, knowing that Agathe was in a better position to talk about all the events that had unfolded. "You know about Adam already, right?"
"Your father told me everything," Agathe said, eyes still closed.
Belle tried to form the sentence in her head, but Agathe seemed to read her mind.
"You think Adam has a curse," she went on, "cursed by Hanneliese to fall in love with him, losing his memories of my curse and making him back to the way he was before."
Belle could only nod, amazed by the accuracy of which Agathe's words cut. "I don't…understand why. Why she would do all of this, why she would curse him to hate the servants, go back to how he used to."
"It's very simple, my dear. I'm surprised you didn't get the answer yet." Agathe's eyes opened slowly and she looked at Belle with her piercing yellow eyes, as human as they could be and as ethereal as the sun. "She loves the Prince, and they are genuine feelings, just as genuine as yours. But he loves you, and…well, she couldn't have you ruining their wedding portrait, now could she?"
Belle stayed silent, trying to look at it from the Princess' perspective. It had never really occurred to her that the Princess could also love Adam genuinely; if anything, it was reasonable for her to fall for the Prince. He was kind, sweet, generous, extremely handsome…at least, after coming out of his curse a changed man. She couldn't condemn the Princess for her feelings, because they were also feelings Belle had in her heart. They both loved Adam, and there was nothing wrong with feeling love. Belle had never really thought about it that way, only living to antagonise the Princess and all of her misdeeds; perhaps they were done out of a mad, possessive love for him, and that's what set her apart from Belle. However, down to her core, she wanted to marry him out of love, something Belle would have done as well if not for the complicated circumstances around her.
"Do you know how to break the curse?" Belle asked, praying Agathe knew.
But Agathe's eyes dropped onto her palms and she gave a melancholy sigh. "I'm sorry, Belle, but…I only know how to undo curses I myself cast. I don't know how. I'm walking into this just as blind as you."
Belle's hopes fell from heaven and landed with a sickening crash in her stomach.
"Although…" Agathe mused, her beautiful face contorted into a frown in thought. "You don't have to do this alone. I do know a basic bit about love spells; maybe we can try to find a cure together."
Belle's once-broken heart began to thump with an excited vigour and she rushed to hug the old woman. "Oh, thank you, Agathe!"
"You're welcome, my dear," Agathe broke from her and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "Now, let's try to break Hanneliese's curse apart and see if there's anything we can do to undo it. Begin by telling me what he does when he's in it. How does he act? What does he say? Was there any stage of progression?"
The memories of the entire affair flew by Belle's mind quickly, and she was swift to form them into sentences. "I think it started when he threatened to uproot the white roses and take apart the library. Then I touched his hand, and suddenly, it seemed that he was back to normal, only he didn't remember that the Princess cursed him…and he also had visions of…me falling and dying, and things like that."
Agathe nodded in understanding. "Was this the first time you noticed a change in him?"
"Yes," Belle answered. "Then during the days after, he was noticeably rude to me and the servants, calling them names, wearing flashy and expensive clothing; even Mrs. Potts said he had reverted to his old self again."
"Have you tried touching him then?"
"Yes, but it didn't work. He continued to be a terrible man. It had gotten to a point where he seemed to forget about his turning into a beast. The night he dismissed me from the castle, I tried to…" and she faltered, remembering the very distant taste of his lips and the feeling of his warm arms around hers; the tears began to prick through her eyelids, and Agathe put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"True love's kiss," Agathe finished. "It didn't work."
Belle wiped away the tears furiously and regained her composure. "I also noticed his eyes had changed colour."
"His eyes changed colour?" Agathe reiterated, curious. "What colour were they?"
"Pink," Belle replied straightforwardly.
"Hmm…" Agathe leaned on the bed's headboard, trying to ponder the situation. "I think I'm beginning to understand what Hanneliese did, the clever lady."
"What?" Belle asked, eager to understand. "Do you know how to break the curse now?"
"In a way," Agathe answered. "See, Hanneliese cursed the Prince to love her, erasing his affections for you in his mind and replacing them with affections for her. Maybe his feelings for you were connected to his memories as the Beast, and that's why he began to forget all of those things when under the curse. She seemed to have strengthened her enchantment in the process, so that's why between you touching him, the latter instance didn't seem to work."
Belle nodded in understanding. "But that doesn't explain the visions of me…perishing."
Agathe's face fell at the prospect of that sentence. "That's…where the curse gets complicated, my dear. The Prince's mind has already been through one curse, so he's vigilant enough to detect another one when it's been cast on him. Visions like those only seem to come subconsciously, like hints as to how to break it."
Belle's heart jumped to her throat in fear. "So that means that…the only way for me to break the curse is to die…?"
Agathe shook her head. "I don't know, my dear…I don't know."
Belle looked to a table in the corner of the room, hopeless and dejected, until her keen eyes spotted The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare peeking out from the bookshelf.
"Qu'elle?!" Lumière gasped in shock as Belle finished. "That's a terrible idea!"
"And it's rather dangerous," Agathe added.
As the winter morning snow subsided and the Villeneuve marketplace grew as hectic as ever, Belle had just finished telling Lumière and Agathe her plans on how to revive Adam from the curse. It didn't seem as appealing to any of the two as they strolled down the vegetable and flower aisle, as the Enchantress was exchanging seeds, leaves, roots, and flora for coin. Lumière had to hold on to her basket as she stuffed them in, while Belle had to constantly watch and support her if ever her still weak legs gave in. Villagers buzzed around them, complaining about the quality of the fish they were given or exchanging gossip about the visiting theatre troupe.
"Well, we don't know what else to do," Belle protested. "If what Agathe said about the curse breaking is true, then it just might work!"
"And kill you," Lumière stressed.
Agathe simply listened on and turned to the vegetable salesperson. "Yarrow root please…yes, thank you."
"I've been reading up on something called animal magnetism," Belle explained, bringing out a book from her sash and turning to the page, "and it's like putting someone into a trance. Maybe that's something that Adam's under…and it says here that to break someone out of the mesmerism, you have to trigger them out of the trance through a memory of equal trauma."
"You are not putting your life at risk for a man who doesn't even remember you," Lumière reprimanded, as Agathe stuffed henbane flowers she had asked from the florist into the basket and paid her back in coin.
"And yet he put his life on the line for me," Belle retorted, much to her surprise. "And besides, my plan coincides with his visions about breaking the curse."
Lumière sighed. "I'm telling you now, ma chèrie, doing this is perilous. And besides, even if it did work and you break the Master out of the curse, don't you think it would break his heart when he's back to normal?"
Belle opened her mouth to say something, but then the words died at her lips and she straightened them into a thin line.
"May I have those aniseed?" Agathe pointed to the box of flower-shaped fruit, where the seller picked up a handful of them and gave her a pouch of it.
"But it won't kill me, like you all think," Belle pleaded again as Agathe stuffed her seed into the basket Lumière held. "I can…I can go down to the apothecary and get some of the—"
"No, you are not getting your tonics from some doctor down the street," Agathe interjected, turning at Belle sharply, her hood nearly falling off her head. The Enchantress sighed in defeat, and looked one more time at the green she had accumulated in her basket. "I think I have enough ingredients to make you something that will easily lessen the chance of your fatality. But to make it work, the potion I will make for you needs two crucial ingredients that will be difficult for you to get."
Belle nodded, her heart quivering in her chest. "Name them and we'll get them, even if we have to travel all the way to England or the New World."
Agathe smiled in amusement at Belle's resolve. "Not that far, but hard for your heart to do. I need a rose from the Prince's garden, and a lock of his hair."
Belle could feel her throat close up and her fists tighten; the very idea of being sent back to the castle triggered in her a fear that threatened to shut off all of her determination. But then she thought of her Prince, her Adam, who she knew, somehow and somewhere, was fighting to be freed from the curse. And she had given up once, she couldn't afford to give up a second time. She had to meet him halfway, whatever the cost.
"I'll do it," Belle's firmness shone in her hazel eyes. "We can leave tonight."
Philippe nearly bucked off in fear at the sight of the castle gates as Lumière, not far behind her, tried to calm down his steed, who was neighing in alarm. The tall spires of the château pierced the cold evening clouds as the moon shone in full view dauntingly behind it, casting long shadows over the gardens, which were blanketed in snow. The cold stone of the pillars, marble of the balustrades, and the welcome air of the verandas seemed to have lost their charm, only dimmed by the winter atmosphere that surrounded it. All the windows in the castle were dark, except for one faint candlelight that shone in a few giant windows of the castle; Belle knew the entire place well enough to determine that it was her library.
"So…" Lumière pondered as Belle pulled her hood over her head. "Do you want to…go get the rose and I'll get his hair?"
"No," Belle said, her eyes transfixed on the library window. "I'll be the one to get his hair."
Lumière seemed disturbed by her words. "C-Chèrie, I understand if you're uncomfortable with…"
"I'll get his hair," Belle said with conviction, looking back at the maître d' with a smile. "It's alright, Lumière, I can do this."
Eliese sat next to her lover in the library as he slept on a pile of books, his warm breath turning a few open pages as he used them as pillows. A dying fireplace roared somewhere in the corner of the room, below the portrait of his father, as the many girandoles hanging from the walls sheltered the room in a dim light. The table her Prince rested on was filled with pages of tomes of miscellaneous names; it seemed that he had fallen asleep reading in this massive heap of a wasted room. Oh, it could have been a ballroom so long ago, but that hideous literate peasant girl had to go and ruin her beautiful plan.
"My dear sweet Adam," Eliese cooed, running her fingers through his untied hair. "Meine Geliebter….oh, how I adore you. We'll be married in a few days, can you believe it? I know you love me as much as I love you, and someday, those feelings will become real."
He muttered something in his sleep as her hand went to caress his chin, his fast-growing stubble rough against her fingertips as he flinched at her touch.
"They have to be…" she whispered, her smile vanishing, replaced by worry and determination. "They have to be."
And she pressed a kiss to his forehead as she walked away, eager to sleep and get to bed. The night was still very young and she had much resting to catch up on; she couldn't afford to look like a risen corpse on her wedding day. Getting her night coat from the chair, she put it on her shoulders deftly and proceeded to walk out of the room, her footsteps quiet against the door. But then a sudden sense dawned upon her and she stopped just as she came under the doorframe, smiling slyly and looking in both directions down the dark hallways. She crossed her arms and put her nose up in the air, defiant and confident.
"Who's there?" she called out into the darkness. "Come on, I know you're hiding."
Silence responded to her, cold and distant.
"Very well," she huffed, satisfied no one truly was there as she made her way to her room. It must have been her enchanted senses working against her again; they did often fluctuate when she was nervous about something.
As the Princess walked down the dark hallway, however, Belle emerged from the shadow of the humongous door of her library and, quickly bolted into the room before the doors shut with a huge thud that she feared would wake up the whole castle staff. But Belle breathed a huge sigh of relief as she leaned against the doors, pulling off her hood as her eyes adjusted to the dim lights of the library she once called hers.
The bookshelves were still there, thank God, and it looked almost like it used to. But, like the rest of the castle as she made her way there, it seemed dead, empty, broken, like it used to during Agathe's curse. The fireplace that lit the room well-enough to be seen from the outside crackled there, as the bookshelves seemed untouched, as did the piles of tomes on the desks. Her lists were still there, so were her pencils, and her piles of Shakespeare, Voltaire, and Rousseau. But what truly caught her attention was that right on a desk in the middle of her library, slept a human being who she never thought she would see again. Her eyes blinked back tears at the very sight of him as she approached, brandishing a pair of small scissors from her belt.
She thought that all feelings of him were gone, but the moment she was standing above him as his eyelids fluttered in a dream, his breath steady as his arms were tucked under his head, her heart melted and she let a sad sigh leave her. He was dressed in nightwear: a thin shirt, simple pants and a pair of dull boots, all cloaked underneath an earth-coloured banyan…he almost looked like he did the day the messengers from Heilig arrived, when he kissed her in the library for what seemed like the last time he did. Without the cosmetics, his face still retained its beautiful shape, its hard lines and chiseled features, with his soft lips parted to let out his breaths and his eyes hidden beneath their lids.
"Adam…" his name left her lips almost like he drew them out.
But then he stirred a little, almost as if she woke him, and she flinched in shock, but sighed in relief as he went back to sleep.
Staying silent to make sure that she would hear footsteps, she leaned in closer to him, and took a small lock of his hair in her shaking fingers. With a quick snip of her scissors, she drew back and stuffed the lock of his silken hair into one of the many pockets of her skirts, going back to reach down and brush the stray hair back around his ear.
She thought that all of the memories had been buried within her, stuck somewhere deep in the past she knew that she would never have again, together with her determination to ever fight for him. But the servants and Agathe renewed that spirit within her, and the feelings she thought she had forgotten blossomed in her chest as she traced her fingers across his stubble and face, captivated by the visage she once loved and began to love again. The sight of him like this only continued to fuel in her a fire of resolve, resolve that saw she would once again get her happily ever after with him.
"I'll make this right, Adam," she whispered to him, retracting her hand from his warm skin. "I'll make this right."
And as quickly and quietly as she came, she left the library, the embers of the fireplace beginning to dim.
The snow fell around Villeneuve and the surrounding areas gracefully; this was the day of the marriage.
Belle stuffed The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet into the satchel attached to Philippe's saddle, her heart thumping in her chest, her skin shivering despite the coat that kept her warm. Lumière, who seemed even more worried than her, mounted his horse and watched her with an anxious expression. Maurice looked on as his daughter, the light of his life and his only joy, was adjusting Philippe's stirrups, fixing the hood of her coat as it fell when she often moved. Once she was satisfied, she walked over to her father, her breath laden with apprehension but her eyes shining with firmness.
"Belle," he said, his voice starting to shake as he handed over an envelope to her. "This is it, today's the day."
She smiled sadly as she took the envelope from him and opened it, only to see a handwriting in flamboyant script decorating its pungent parchment.
Monsieur or Madame:
As a settler in the nearby village of Villeneuve, Vendôme of the region of France, you are hereby invited to the matrimonial celebration of Prince Adam Sauvageon Bourdillou and Princess Hanneliese Katharina Fedovia von Heilig, which will be held on the –th of January, in the new year of our Lord 17—. The ceremony will begin at noontime at the chapel of the Château Bourdillou, and the reception ball will be held immediately after. Please present this invitation as a token of your entrance to the reception ball.
Thank you and God bless you and your family.
"He had sent these letters out weeks ago," Maurice explained as Belle folded it and stuffed it into her pocket. "A messenger came riding into town and he gave one to every single family in the village."
Her lips quirked up in a smile, giving him a large embrace. "Thank you, Papa."
"Oh, Belle," he sighed, holding her close. "I know what you're going to do is dangerous, and if you don't recover from it…I'll…oh, God…"
Belle's eyes flew open when his voice began to crack. She quickly drew back, and seeing that Maurice was trying his best to fight the tears that sprung at the edges of his lids just crushed her. He was more than her father; he was a friend, a companion, perhaps the only one in Villeneuve (other than Agathe) who accepted her for who she was and nurtured her as best as he could in the absence of her mother. He had been through so much, suffered too much, and was rewarded too little, and if she was to break his heart, she would never forgive herself.
"I won't go that easily, Papa," Belle reassured him. "I won't go without saying goodbye. I'll survive and come back from you. I swear I will."
That elicited a comforting smile from her father and they embraced each other tight, one last time, as the door to their little cottage opened. Out stepped Agathe, cloaked in her hood as she walked over slowly towards Belle, holding a small corked vial.
"Here it is," the Enchantress gave the bottle to Belle, and the glass felt cold in her hands. "I tried the best I could to remove its fatal properties. Hopefully it works more like a sleeping potion instead…a very potent sleeping potion."
Belle held up the bottle to her eye level, sloshing the liquid inside. It was not as viscous as she thought it would be; it was almost like water, but its colour was gold, and it almost shone like it whenever it bubbled and moved. As she pocketed the vial carefully, she felt herself gulp nervously; this was the game-changer, the balancing factor, the thing that would—if it worked according to plan—win back her Prince.
The strong winds of the winter seemed to be assisting her, pushing Philippe and Lumière's horse closer and closer through the snow-covered pathways and towards the silhouette of the castle. It began to emerge out of the clouds, like a wraith from the light, and loomed over her like it did all those months ago, when she came galloping towards it, looking to save her father. But now, she was going towards it for a different purpose…she was going to save Adam. She could hear bells toll in the distance, calling one and all to witness a union of two souls, to be bound together until death. The vial was cold against the skin of her dress, despite being layered with multiple cloaks, and she shivered, her heart pounding in anticipation and fear. She was throwing her life into a cruel gamble for a man who didn't even recognise her as a human being.
"We're almost there, chèrie!" Lumière yelled at her through the snow. "If you have to do it, do it now!"
Belle's hands shook as she took the vial from her pocket, the gold potion growing brighter in her hands as she neared the castle. As she popped the cork, she swallowed her nervousness as her entire being began to tremble in fear of the unknown.
"And chèrie," Lumière said from beside her, marooning his horse to meet beside Philippe as he looked into her eyes. "Thank you for this valiant sacrifice. You have no idea what it means to me and the servants. You are braver than all of us, than all the world, for true love."
That at least comforted Belle as she raised the vial to her lips. "I'll see you, Lumière. Until we meet again."
And she raised her head as she drank down the potion in one gulp. But just as she swallowed it, her vision began to spin, and her senses began to die off, one by one. Despite all of numbness gripping her body, it was painless and felt like nothing, as if she was descending slowly into a lake of peacefulness. A large throbbing in her head took over her and she collapsed from her horse as Lumière yelled her name, and the last thing she ever saw was the maître d' dismounting his horse and shouting as her vision faded away.
Time for some education! Animal magnetism really was a thing, and, thankfully for us, it's time-period accurate (sort of). The term was coined by Franz Mesmer, from which the term 'mesmerise' comes from. He coins it as a wired-in force that can induce physical effects and, when manipulated, can be used for healing.
Yeah, you should read up on Romeo and Juliet before the next chapter. It might save you some feels and make you a little bit more aware to what Belle's situation really is.
I bet you can already figure out what terrible, heart-breaking plan she's concocted up in her romantic head.
EDIT (9th June, 2017): Special thanks to the guest that corrected my usage of the language, as I've changed the German Eliese speaks and the title of the whole fic. I'm indebted to you, sir or madame!
