Beast's POV
Though it was still an hour too early, the Beast was in the dining room pacing before the fireplace. He had spent only about half an hour with the girl and already she was driving him mad. He gave her a beautiful room, which she questioned, told her she could roam almost anywhere she wanted in the castle, and yet she questioned him again, not to mention she ignored his order to eat dinner with him. So many years without hope until this girl appeared, now she was proving herself to be nothing but trouble.
She would have to learn how things were done here, that was all. He was Master of this castle, and she was his pr—guest. She should abide by what was expected. And he intended to make that clear as soon as she came down to dinner.
He paced as the minutes passed, his anger ebbing as the time approached and replaced with uncertainty. How on earth was he going to win this girl over? If she couldn't learn to take his orders, what was the point?
Mrs. Potts hopped into the room and the smile as she watched him pace did not escape him.
"I just talked to the girl," she reported as she hopped closer. The Beast carefully lifted her up to the mantel so she wouldn't be in danger of being stomped on as he paced. "She seems like such a kind soul. Chip took an immediate liking to her." But the Beast was only half listening. His heart beat faster in anxiety as he pictured the girl coming though the door. He tried to imagine what he might say to her, what she might say in return, but as before his mind was blank.
Lumiere came into the room minutes later, doubtless to bear witness to what would promise to be a very interesting dinner. The Beast sent him up to join Mrs. Potts on the mantle before resuming his pacing. As the time came for dinner, the Beast paused and looked at the door, but no girl
"Women take so long to get ready, Master," Lumiere assured him with a laugh. "You must expect them to be a little late for anything."
"Humph," Mrs. Potts said which the Beast took as a confirmation of Lumiere's statement. So he waited, and he paced, and he worried.
"Why isn't she here yet?" he demanded half an hour later. No one could take that long to get ready.
"Cogsworth!" he bellowed and moments later the mantel clock came rushing into the room.
"Yes, Master?" he puffed.
"Go get the girl and bring her down here," he ordered.
"You mean, she has not arrived yet?"
"Obviously not," he said between gritted teeth.
"Oh, my goodness! Well I'll just go fetch her then, shall I?" he said and hastily retreated from the room.
"Oh, you must try to be patient, sir. The girl has lost her father and her freedom all in one day," Mrs. Potts said gently when Cogsworth had left. The Beast glanced at her, but said nothing. He knew she was right, but the tone in her voice made it seem as though what he had done was wrong. How else did she expect him to keep the girl here?
"Master," Lumiere interjected. "Have you thought that this girl could be the one to break the spell?"
"Of course I have," he all but roared, insulted that Lumiere even asked that. What else would his think upon seeing the girl in his castle? "I'm not a fool," he grumbled and resumed his pacing.
"Good! So, you fall in love with her, she falls in love with you, and poof! The spell is broken! We'll be human again by midnight!"
"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Lumiere," Mrs. Potts said. "These things take time."
"But the rose has already begun to wilt!" Lumiere retaliated, as if this information would change the basic facts.
"It's no use," the Beast said, silencing the two servants in their debate. "She's so beautiful and I'm. . .well look at me!" he finished angrily.
"He has a point," he heard Lumiere whisper to Mrs. Potts. Normally the Beast would have grown angry at this, but he knew Lumiere was only speaking the truth. What chance did this gruesome, beastly face have to win the heart of a beauty like this girl?
"You must help her to see past all that," Mrs. Potts offered. Her comment was more understanding, but no more helpful.
"I don't know how," he grumbled, unwilling to admit such a thing.
"Well, you can start by straightening up. Try to make yourself more presentable!" she declared, hopping down from the mantel onto a well-placed cushion only to hop onto the table. The Beast did as she asked, straightening his back as he sat on the floor feeling the unfamiliar sensation of being more or less upright stretch his spine.
"Ah, yes! You must impress her with your rapier wit!" Lumiere added, joining Mrs. Potts on the table.
"But be gentle!"
"Shower her with confidence," Lumiere suggested.
"But be sincere," Mrs. Potts countered. The Beast's head began to spin. How was he to do all of this? It was impossible!
"And above all . . ."
"What?" he demanded, already overwhelmed by their suggestions.
"You must control your temper!" they said together in earnest. The Beast was about to lose his temper if they kept up with this confusing assault of suggestions. But the sound of the door handle turning drained him of his anger and replaced it with fear.
"Here she is!" Lumiere whispered excitedly. But when the door opened, there was no one there but Cogsworth.
"Well, where is she?" he demanded through gritted teeth. It was half an hour after the appointed time, and still she had not come down? After a bit of nervous laughter and stalling, Cogsworth revealed that the girl was not in fact coming down to dinner.
"WHAT?" he roared, his fury boiling and without another thought, burst through the doors of the dining room and hurtled upstairs towards the girl's bedroom. How dare she disobey him! How dare she challenge him like this! Without a thought, he burst through the doors of the room he allowed the girl to have.
"Excuse me! You can't just—" she began, but the Beast cut her off.
"I thought I told you to come down to dinner!" he bellowed at her, keeping a safe distance from the girl as she sat on the bed but unable to otherwise contain his anger.
"I'm not hungry," she replied simply, showing no sign of her fear or despair from earlier.
"I am the Master of this castle and I'm telling you to come down to dinner!" he retorted. Did she not understand that he had the final say here? And it irked him to see her so calm and collected in the face of his rage.
"And I'm telling you I'm not hungry!" she replied in that same smooth tone. He felt his skin crawl in frustration.
"You're hungry if I say you're hungry!" he shot back.
"Don't be ridiculous," she replied and crossed her arms defiantly. The Beast actually took a step back in surprise.
"What did you say?"
"You can't order someone to be hungry. It doesn't work that way. Besides, it's rude," she said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, it's rude is it?" he replied, his patience finally worn down. "How about this: if you don't come down to dinner, I will grab you by the hair and drag you—" But as he approached the girl, Lumiere cleared his throat and hopped in front of the Beast, causing him to stop.
"Master, that may not be the best way to win the girl's affections," he suggested and the Beast let his paws fall by his sides again, knowing that Lumiere was right.
"Please, attempt to be a gentleman," Cogsworth begged. A gentleman? How could a Beast be a gentleman? Especially when this girl was doing everything in her power to frustrate him!
"But she's being so difficult!" he protested. "Why are you being so difficult?" he demanded, turning back to the girl.
"Why are you being such a bully?" she replied without pause.
"Because I want you to come to dinner!" he answered without thinking.
"So you admit you're being a bully," the girl said and the Beast's anger renewed to a point where it flooded his chest and made it difficult to breathe. She was, without a doubt, the most infuriating creature he had ever met!
"Deep breaths, Master," he heard Mrs. Potts say and he struggled to do as she suggested. It helped, but only so much as to give him his voice back.
"I'll give you one last chance," he said with a growl before straightening up and taking the advice of his servants, at least as much as he was willing to, which wasn't much at all. "Would you be so kind as to join me for dinner?" he said, balling his cloak in his fists as he bowed slightly to this impossible girl.
"P-P-Pahhh," he heard Cogsworth hint and the Beast grimaced at lowering himself so. But if he was to get the girl to dinner, it seemed he would have to make some sacrifices.
"Please," he said with a grumble.
"No thank you," the girl replied politely, but her words seemed no less than the greatest of insults to him.
"Fine!" he said at last, throwing up his paws in defeat. "Then go ahead and starve!" He whirled around and bolted out of the room again, his servants dutifully following him. "If she doesn't eat with me, then she doesn't eat at all!" he ordered them. He would force her to be in his company. The stubbornness would wear off after a day or so of an empty belly, then she would eat with him. When his servants nodded, signaling they understood his order, the Beast hurried to the sanctuary of his West Wing, eager to put this frustrating incident behind him. That girl would learn that he was Master here and no one would get away with speaking to him like that. If she were not so crucial to the undoing of the enchantment, he would have thrown her out. But he needed her to stay, impossible and stubborn as she was. Her mere presence brought back a hope that the Beast had thought gone. But if she refused to cooperate, or something else went horribly wrong, all hope would be lost forever.
"What does she want me to do? Beg?" he growled to himself as he swatted aside a chair in the West Wing. He made his way to the small table that held the rose and the magic mirror, angrily brooding over their less-than-ideal interaction. How dare she say such things to him, to challenge him.
"Show me the girl," he demanded of the mirror, convinced he would catch her sneaking down for food or doing something else that would infuriate him. The mirror glowed and its surface changed to show the girl in her room. She sat on the bed, her arms folded and obviously very cross. The Beast scowled; why should she be so cross when it was her causing all the trouble for him?
"The Master's really not such a bad fellow," the wardrobe was saying to the girl. "Why don't you give him a chance?"
"Why should I?" the girl replied. "Did he give my father a chance?"
"Well. . . no, but once you get to know him—"
"I don't want to get to know him! I don't want to have anything to do with him!" she declared. The Beast sighed and put the mirror down. Apparently he had aggravated her as much as she had him.
"I'm just fooling myself," he said to the air as the image in the mirror disappeared and was replaced with his own hideous reflection. If they made each other so miserable, what was the point of this? "She'll never see me as anything but a monster." He replaced the mirror on the table and went out onto the balcony, the freezing winds of early winter whipping though his fur. It would snow tonight, he could feel it in the air.
He leaned against the low wall of the balcony and hung his head in despair. There was only a few more months until the last petal of the rose would fall, but this girl would not save him. How long must he endure this cruel trick of fate the enchantress bestowed on him? Only a few months of the curse remained, but how long after that must he bear the burden of his own existence?
One wrong decision was all it took for that enchantress, that witch, to leave him in this horrible state. Hated by everyone he encountered. How could he win the world's forgiveness when everyone, including this girl, despised him?
Belle's POV
Belle sat in the room she was given, having a difficult time not taking her anger out on the poor wardrobe. But the Madame was so good-natured that Belle quickly found her foul mood disintegrating. She felt herself beginning to relax, though her heart still ached with the sorrow of losing her father, and the thought of the creature who served as her jailor never quite left her mind.
"Goodness, where is my head? I should have offered you a bath hours ago. You must be exhausted from your trip," Madame de la Grande Bouche cried out.
"A bath would be lovely, actually. Thank you," Belle said. She felt vulnerable in the castle and was sure a bath wouldn't improve that feeling, but she was certain it might do her nerves some good. The wardrobe pulled a cord beside the bed by curving the corner of one of her doors and leveraging it against a the knot that were placed decoratively along the rope. Belle was fascinated how she was able to move and function. It was not nearly as practical or graceful as a human, but the wardrobe managed surprisingly well.
"Tell me about the. . . people who live here," Belle asked, sitting back on the bed with one leg tucked underneath her as they waited for someone to respond to the bell the wardrobe had just rung.
"Oh well. . . I don't know what there is to tell," the Madame said.
"Well, is Chip really Mrs. Potts' son?" Belle began.
"Of course! There's plenty of little teacups hopping around the castle and Mrs. Potts takes care of all of them, the dear. But Chip is Mrs. Potts' one and only son. Couldn't ask for a better little boy in all the world!"
"And Cogsworth is. . ."
"The majordomo here. He's the Master's right-hand, er. . . clock," she finished with a laugh. "Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth help run the castle, along with Lumiere of course.'
"Lumiere?"
"Oh, that's right you haven't really met him yet. He is the maitre d' and takes his job very seriously. In a manner of speaking. He is the exact opposite of Cogsworth: fun, easy-going. And a huge flirt! Oh my, you best watch out for him when you meet him! Not that he would do anything to harm Babette, of course."
"Babette?" Belle began to wonder how many servants this castle held, though she quite enjoyed hearing about all these people. It was successfully distracting her from. . . other things.
"One of the maids. She and Lumiere have been together for. . .well it's hard to tell, but quite a long time! She wrangled in Lumiere and he immediately stopped chasing all the other maids. But he's still such a tease!" Belle giggled, but was kept from asking any further questions as yet another knock came from the door.
Belle rose to open it and several silver buckets on carts zoomed in and through to the other door in her room. Each one was filled with steaming water. Belle went to open the washroom door and watched in awe as each silver bucket paraded into the small adjacent room and poured their contents into the silver clawfoot tub she found inside. There was a small window with a partially drawn curtain on one wall, exposing a small part of the darkness and some starlight outside. A small sofa stood on the wall opposite the door where Belle stood. Behind a smaller door on that same wall was her own personal privy.
"Thank you," she said as the now empty buckets left, though she was unsure if they had the capability of hearing her. There would be a lot of things she would have to learn about the servants if she was to stay here.
"Here, dearie!" the wardrobe called from the doorway of the washroom. Belle realized her bulk would make it difficult for her to enter the washroom and Belle obligingly walked to the doorway to talk to the wardrobe. "If you give me your dress I'll have it cleaned for you before morning. You can put this on to sleep in," she gave Belle a lacy, woolen nightdress. It looked much warmer than the one Belle had waiting for her back home, but the lace would be nothing but itchy. Home. Belle shook her head and took the nightgown from the wardrobe.
"Thank you. One moment," Belle said and closed the door to quickly shed her blue dress and wrap a towel around her before handing the dress out to the wardrobe.
"Now hop in before the water gets cold!" the wardrobe said and allowed Belle to shut the door once more.
Confident she was alone, Belle put the towel aside and sunk into the delightfully warm water. Instantly, Belle felt herself relax as the warm water enveloped her. The tub was much bigger than the one at home, allowing Belle's entire body to be submerged and the soaps she found beside the tub gave off calming scents. The ride through the freezing forest melted away, momentarily even allowing her to forget the terrible heartache she had suffered just hours ago. But as she rose from the tub some time later, the memory of losing her father and her freedom make her stagger as she wrapped the towel around herself.
"Oh, Papa," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Papa."
She dried off and donned the nightgown the wardrobe had given her. It was warm, and the lace wasn't as itchy as she feared.
"There now, I'll bet you feel much better after that bath," the wardrobe said as Belle emerged from the washroom.
"Tired, mostly," Belle replied, indeed feeling as though she had walked hundreds of miles.
"Well, why don't you get in bed and get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning." Belle nodded, too tired now to even speak, and climbed into the strange bed. It was comfortable, as though the mattress was made of clouds and the sheets of a softer wool than that of her nightgown.
"Thank you," she said as she burrowed into a pocket of warmth underneath the sheets. She was so impossibly weary from her journey through the forest and the emotional stress of that evening that not even the thought of a monster in a mysterious castle could keep her from falling into a deep sleep.