Chapter Nine

The Enchanted Castle

When Belle saw the fire, she didn't even hesitate before she rushed towards it. In her hurry to get away from the village unseen, she had forgotten her gloves, and her hands had turned bright red from the cold. She tried to be careful as she heated them by the fire, knowing from previous experience how sore chilblains were. If she was going to rescue Maurice successfully, every part of her body would need to be well-rested and in tip-top condition. The heat washed over her, a welcome change from the freezing temperatures outside. But even as her body relaxed in the comfortable room, she found herself looking around curiously.

It was a very pretty sort of room, Belle thought. The fireplace took pride of place on the wall opposite the door, and the mantelpiece had been sculpted by somebody who clearly knew what they were doing. The walls were papered in a light blue colour that reminded her of the duck eggs she used to sell, before she decided they laid too little to justify the expense of keeping them. The paper was also decorated with gold diamonds, which caught the flickering firelight. I wonder if that's real gold leaf? Belle thought. No, don't be silly, she corrected herself. Not even royalty is that ostentatious. The furniture in the room was well-maintained, a comfortable chair placed in front of the fire, and tables holding various knick-knacks spaced evenly throughout. There were small paintings on the wall as well, definitely expensive enough to satisfy the vanity of whoever had decorated this room. The smallest one, which showed a blonde-haired girl in peasant's costume, would probably cost more than Belle and Maurice's entire house.

Except it's not our house anymore, Belle remembered suddenly. It's just sitting empty now. She forced herself to stop thinking about the decision she'd made almost a month ago now, and instead focused on what was happening around her. Which honestly . . . wasn't much. A small frown creased her brow. A castle this large would surely need servants. And why exactly would you think that? she asked herself. The Beast-thing led you here, and called it 'home'. That doesn't mean people live here. Belle froze. It had saved her life during the fight with the wolves, but that didn't mean it wouldn't eat her. It clearly wasn't an animal, but it wasn't anything human either. Maybe it was one of those evil spirits she'd read about, who had taken this castle for its own and killed the servants. Maybe it had saved her life in the woods so she'd be closer to its den when it decided to eat her.

Belle moved away from the fire, suddenly convinced that she'd made a horrible mistake. She turned to face the door of the small room, when slowly it began to open. She backed up a little, frantically looking around for a weapon of any sort - something to defend herself with. She couldn't see anything, and stared helplessly at the door, waiting for the Beast to come back into the room and devour her.

Instead of the Beast, however, a wheeled serving tray rolled in at a high speed. A white tea set lay on top of it, steam coming out the teapot's spout, and the little serving tray drew to a halt immediately in front of Belle.

"How on earth . . . ?" Belle muttered, flying over to the door to see who had pushed it. She peered out into the dark hallway, but there was nobody there as far as she could see. She turned back again, only to find the tray had followed her back over to the door. Belle jumped back a little, unnerved at the tray's movement. She knew she hadn't touched it at all when she ran to the door. Cautiously, she sidestepped around the tray into the warm room again. She walked back to the fireside, and Belle could hear the muted sound of wheels rolling over the thick carpet beneath Belle's feet.

"This is too much," she said, burying her face in her hands. "This is . . ." Belle dragged her hands down over her cheeks, to see the tray in front of her again. Despite herself, she smiled a little at the situation. "Alright, then. Hello. My name is Belle." She nodded a little awkwardly at the tray and tea set. Am I seriously introducing myself to an inanimate object? she thought.

Her acknowledgment seemed to trigger something, however, as the teapot and a cup hopped off their saucers towards Belle. She could feel her jaw drop as the teapot filled the little cup with tea, milk, and sugar, and nodded back towards Belle. Automatically Belle picked up the cup and took a sip out of it, her good manners still a reflex even in this . . . whatever it was. Nevertheless, the hot drink was doing her good; whether the Beast had sent it in or it had come of it's own accord, Belle was grateful for the teapot's intervention. She noticed a little chip in the cup's rim, and ran the pad of her finger over it softly. "Hey, what happened to you?" she asked in a soft voice. The cup seemed to droop in her hand, and twist back to the teapot glumly. "Oh, I'm sorry," Belle said. "This is just . . . all so strange. But I'll be leaving in the morning, anyway. Thank you for your hospitality." She placed the cup back on the serving tray, and it snuggled close to the large teapot. As quickly as the tray had zoomed into the room, it shot back out, and Belle was left alone once again.

"Huh," she whispered. "An enchanted castle."

The Beast had barely left the stables before he knew more servants were moving around. He hoped none of them would scare Belle too badly. A Beast, she'd handled remarkably well. But an entire castle of moving objects? They'd just spook her away, and that was the last thing he needed. Well. It's not like she's going to stay anyway, he forced himself to remember. She said she needed to go somewhere. A tiny spark of hope persisted, despite himself. Maybe he could convince her to stay. He might not even need to convince her - the snowstorm could easily worsen overnight and leave her stranded at the castle. For the time being, he showed Belle into the last room he remembered having a lit fire, which happened to be where he had been lying in despair about an hour ago. She half-ran, half-fell towards it, and the Beast moved towards the source of the noise in his castle - the kitchens.

When he opened the door, he nearly got the surprise of his life. Nothing could ever be as unexpected as turning into a monster on Christmas Day, but the scene before him came pretty close. Everything in the kitchen was moving - everything. Cutlery, dishes, dusters, towels, all rushing around in a bustle, almost like they were trying to organise themselves. They froze in place as soon as they noticed the Beast. He looked around the room, with what he hoped was gravitas. He recognised the candelabra from earlier perched on top of the stove, with a feather duster in his . . . arms? The Beast shook his head in confusion. Too many words.

"Girl here." He frowned. Not enough words. "Bring drinks. Make comf - make safe." He scowled darkly, but refrained from expressing his rage through violence. If he broke a servant, it would be one less servant to help him win her over. Still, it wasn't the Beast's fault he didn't have enough words. How long will it be before my thoughts can be actually said out loud, instead of just a fraction of them? As he was brooding, a tea set was building itself up on a serving tray. It looked familiar in a strange way - and not just because he'd seen it around the castle for five or six years. "Do not brighten," he warned. "SCARE!" he shouted an instant later. "Do not scare." The tray trundled away, and the Beast stalked away, to wait for Belle to drink her tea and be shown to a room.

You could make her stay, a small part of him suggested as he paced up and down the hallway. There are cells in the tower, with locks you can break, but she can't. That way she'd be near you all the time.

Tempting, he argued back. But she has somewhere she needs to be. Besides, isn't that wrong? The faintest sketch of a memory etched in his mind; a tall man with not-green yellow hair and a moustache, who said "If you love something . . ." I'll find a way to keep her here.

How? the smaller part of him taunted. She's leaving in the morning!

He was snapped out his train of though by the woman herself appearing right in front of him. She gasped a little in shock, and he supposed he couldn't blame her for that; after all it was a dark corridor and he was . . . monstrous. A wave of despair hit him again. There's no way she could ever love me, not when I'm so hideous and she's so beautiful.

"Follow," he said abruptly. "Room this way." By pure luck, the candelabra had snuck out from the kitchens - probably to see what was happening - and the Beast picked it up to light the castle ahead of them. He didn't turn back to see if Belle was following them, but he didn't need to. His ears were sensitive enough to pick up her soft footsteps on the ground as she walked behind him - close enough so she wouldn't be left alone in the dark hallway, but still keeping her distance from the large Beast.

Once they had left the relative brightness of the main hall, the castle was even darker than the Beast remembered. It felt almost oppressive, weighing him down with only three candles to light up the way ahead. The flickering light caught shadows from high above them, throwing gargoyles into sharp relief and cloaking alcoves in black. He wished he could just run towards his room like he normally would, but he needed to go at a walking pace so Belle could keep up. Unease pricked at his neck, even though the Beast knew nothing was wrong - he'd walked these halls hundreds of times since the curse, and nothing had ever happened to him. Still, he couldn't help a short sigh of relief when he reached the first of the guest rooms.

"Room," he grunted towards Belle, swinging the door open. She stared blankly at him. He gestured for her to move forwards with a paw, and she recoiled subtly. A reflection from the candlelight revealed the source of her discomfort, and he pulled his paw towards him. He hadn't even realised that the sight of his long, sharp claws would unnerve her, but she had just seen him fight off a good number of hungry wolves. Remembering the battle, the Beast suddenly felt a dull ache in his arm - in his rush of adrenaline since the wolf attack, and his effort to keep the woman comfortable (why was it so hard to say that stupid word out loud?), he hadn't yet seen to his injuries.

"Your room," he said brusquely, and Belle slipped past him into the guest room. "Light fire," he muttered to the candelabra. It gave him a salute, and hopped down out his paw to make the room more comfortable.

"Thank you," Belle said quietly. She was looking directly at him. The intensity of her stare made him a little uncomfortable, but he met her gaze and held it. Her eyes seemed filled with determination - or maybe just a stubborn refusal to give in to her fear. Either way, the Beast reasoned, the result on him was the same. He awkwardly bowed his head towards her, another half-memory of a previous life, and raced towards his rooms. He would need time to think of a plan to keep her here if the curse was ever going to be broken.

A/N: Um. Remember when I said I was going to update quicker because it was the Christmas holidays? Yeaaahhh . . . Sorry about that. On the plus side, the most interesting part of the story is just beginning - watching these two fall in love.

Sorry again for the delay.

TheTeaIsAddictive