She wept there in her little cavern for longer than she expected herself to. She'd gone to the library to try and find answers, to learn about her wedding night on her own terms but what she'd found instead hadn't exactly been something to celebrate or look forward to. Instead of feeling at ease about her situation, she felt even more lost. How could she be expected to share herself with someone that was essentially a stranger? How was she supposed to be happy about having something that was so important in a person's life taken away?! This couldn't have been what her parents had in mind for her when they'd first encouraged this arrangement. No! She knew that it hadn't been what her parents had in mind for her! Her mother had told her that it wasn't, years ago. But now it was done and there was no doubt in her mind that she'd never felt any kind of love for him. And now? Now she was expected to just…
It was too awful to contemplate. She'd never know love. Not romantic love at least. That was what this all came down to in the end. She'd never be swept off her feet. She'd never know romantic dinners, happy dances, beautiful sunsets. She'd never fall in love. Strange, she'd never even known that she wanted to fall in love until this moment. Her parents, she'd always believed that they had been in love. In the months leading up to her mothers death she had doubted that but now…now she didn't want to know if they had been or not. Whether it was truth or lies she wanted to believe that they had been because that was how she wanted to remember them. Glances exchanged over fires, delicate touches when they thought no one was watching, hushed whispers in the midst of heated battle…they had shared love together. Something rich and deep, something layered and romantic, and she'd never known that she wanted to have that as they did until she realized that she wouldn't.
Discouraged as ever she finally crawled out from under the bookshelf she'd hidden behind, but she made herself a promise. This was it. She'd spent days sulking over what was going to happen to her. But sulking wasn't going to stop it or fix it or make it better in anyway. Her father needed her to be strong. Her father didn't need to see that this was killing her on the inside, he didn't need to know how afraid of it all she was, how upset she was. Her father, just like the people needed something to believe in, if it had to be this then she was going to make sure that he saw exactly what he needed to. It was the least that she could do. And even if it wasn't falling in love the way she'd always imagined, the way she'd hoped she one day would, maybe if she pretended like this wasn't the end of the world then she'd convince herself it wasn't.
So she crawled out of her hiding place with the determination that when she stood on her own two feet that would be the end of it. No more misery, no more crying, just acceptance and strength…bravery. Years from now she's look back on these memories and find her mother was right. She was going to do the brave thing and hope that bravery would follow. So she wiped her eyes, allowed herself one final sniffle, and made her way over to a different section of the library. It was small, closer to a few broken windows but at least the shelves appeared intact, the books all still in place as if nothing had ever happened.
She sighed sadly as she went over the titles before finding a slim book that would do. A Guided Overview on the Workings of the Human Physical Form. It was a sad conclusion she'd come to, but the truth was that if she couldn't find something good in the novels she'd explored, perhaps she'd find something good clinically. Lydia had tried to explain it to her and if she concentrated hard enough she was sure she could piece it all back together even in her stunned numbness. But the truth was that she didn't want to. Her mother should have been the one to explain it all, not her nurse. And the images that had flashed before her eyes as she'd crudely explained the idea of her wedding night…well, perhaps it was just better not to think of it that way. Perhaps it was just better to be prepared, to understand what would happen to her from an indifferent third party that was just as numb to it as she was. Not to mention the fact that they also probably showed about as much care for the entire situation as she did.
But appeared that her suspicions were unfounded. The book was slim for a reason. It was only theory. Opening up to the table of contents and pouring over the selections it was quite obvious there was nothing concrete here. "The Theory of Digestion", "Where Could Pain Come From", "What a Man Should Know About Reproduction", and of course "What a Woman Should Know About the Miracle of Birth".
Ten pages. That was all that it really amounted to. Heartless words and clinical descriptions of what the author "believed" happened when a man "implanted" a small developing human within the womb of a suitable mate. Well…she had wanted clinical. And what she got as she read what pregnancy entailed was nothing but clinical. It certainly didn't look fun to be pregnant. And she had to do this for nine months?! She shook her head and looked away, remembering her promise that she wasn't going to cry about what couldn't be helped anymore. It was fine. At least when she got pregnant she wouldn't have to worry about going to Gaston's bedchamber. The damage would have already been done. But still…
The book didn't have anything for her about that particular part of the arrangement. Perhaps…maybe…if she looked at the chapter for men.
She gasped and slammed the book shut quickly at the first picture she saw, a blush rising not just in her cheeks but her neck and shoulders as well. She hadn't expected there to be pictures. And for just a minute she picked her head up to figure out where her mother and the librarian were to make sure no one had seen her-
And saw only destruction.
How long would that happen? How much longer would she continue to look over her shoulder expecting to see her mother here only to remember…
She sighed and picked the book back up again. Her mother wasn't here. And there was no use being afraid of ghosts seeing what she should have been told years ago! She opened the book back up to its table of contents and tried to find the offending section again only this time…this time something new reached out and grabbed her attention, a different chapter.
"Where Memories Are Stored".
She nearly lost her breath and stared at those words far longer than she should have before paging ahead to that chapter and wondering why she hadn't been looking for an answer like this all along.
"Memories are one of the most essential portions to a personality. Memories are a lifelong account from birth to death that are believed to be stored within the brain. This organ, located within and protected by the skull, may seem small and unimportant compared to the heart and lungs, or even the stomach or liver, but every day more and more ideas theories are emerging that this organ is much more vital than once believed.
"Here, in the brain, we may find memories, personality, and perhaps one day even the science behind dreams. But the brain is not a map and the way memories are stored is unclear at best. Some memories, like what an individual eats for breakfast or what they dream about are believed to be fairly unimportant and therefore, while they are saved, they are easily forgotten over time or become difficult to keep track of. However, it is clear that other memories are easier to recall if they have had much influence over the life of an individual. Breakfast, while difficult to remember day after day, may be remembered down to the number of glasses of water consumed if connected to a life altering experience.
"For example, in a conversation between a village physician and his patient Martha the physician inquired what Martha typically ate for breakfast. She responded-'Oh, anything that we had around. We were always a poor family. We didn't have much, breakfast was always unpredictable. I always just threw together anything that I had around.' It is a typical and expected answer covering the span of Martha's life. The physician asked a series of questions about breakfast. Could she remember what she'd had for breakfast that morning, yesterday, a week ago, and a year ago? The answers for this question became unknown after only a week. However when the physician inquired about a certain day, the day three years prior, when Martha's husband informed her he was leaving her for another woman, the answer was drastically different. 'I remember that plate like it was yesterday. Eggs and bacon…and toast. It was burned a bit, because after he told me I…well…I guess I left it by the fire for too long. To this day I can't eat toast with any bit of black on it. It turns my stomach.'
"These answers, while unimportant to peasants and servants allow us to glimpse into the mind, to study the way memories work, and even the effect memories can have on the body long after they have passed. Martha's answer concerning her stomach is actually quite..."
She glanced up from her reading as the sentences and words began to get too complex to understand. One thing was clear through it though.
Breakfast. So…she should be able to remember breakfast or dinner she supposed on the evening her mother died? She thought back but…no…she couldn't remember. All she remembered from their final dinner together was the emotion. She could remember the tension as her parents fought with each other, just as they had been for months, she could remember the pronouncement that the ogres had strayed from their Troupe, and the hug they'd given each other as they quickly dispersed to make arrangements and pack. She couldn't remember what was for dinner. Was she supposed to? Had she even eaten that night? Was there more than just a chunk of time missing? Was there a way to get it back?
She glanced down at the book. That was what she needed to know. She might not understand what would happen on her wedding night but she knew what a memory was. What she needed now was how to get to a certain one, how to access them after her mind, her brain apparently, had sealed it off. What could she do to retrieve memories that were trapped? She skimmed through the book, page after page after…the end of the chapter. Six pages. They knew less about memories than they did about pregnancy. That was unhelpful. And yet…the last line of the chapter…there was something to it.
"Though this single chapter may seem comprehensive, what is becoming more and more clear is that the art of memory, the study of the brain, could be considered a science all on it's own. It is believed that one day entire books, perhaps even books requiring volumes, will be written on this subject, but it will take time and sacrifice. But today, knowing the brain beyond our own current means…it would be only through an act of magic."
Magic.
Magic like the sorcerer she'd heard the doctor claim to see her before he did. The person her father and Lydia insisted was only another doctor.
Slowly her eyes rolled over to a door on the far side of the room, the room that had led to the librarian's personal study, books kept under lock and key because of their age or because of their delicacy. But also because of their wealth or knowledge. The librarian was no longer here. According to her father he'd been the one to alert her father that she and her mother were in the library the day the ogres attacked and she hadn't seen or heard from him since then, but maybe, before he'd fled he'd possibly left the door…locked. She could scarcely remember making the choice to walk over and tug on the door and yet here she was. The door had no give to it. And as far as she knew the librarian was the only one that had a key to it but…maybe she didn't need a key. The metal of the handle was warped and pulling from the door frame and there was plenty of ruble around, maybe if she just took a rock and…
It made a terribly loud noise in the empty wing, and it made her knuckles bleed when they scraped against the door, but the metal had warped farther. Upon seeing that sight she took after it like a madwoman. She hit it over and over and over again until-
She swung and hit nothing. The lock mechanism was on the floor where she'd knocked it after her last attempt and the door…she threw the rock aside, reached forward, and pulled on it again. There was a strange grinding sound of metal that seemed to come from within the wood, but this time, after a few strong tugs, it finally gave way at her touch. She lost her balance and fell back onto the floor, looked inside, and-
She screamed at the horrific sight that met her eyes as the rotten odor of decay filled her nostrils.
At least now she knew what happened to the librarian.
How do you feel about this chapter? I promised you a little bit of Early Research!Belle and I hope I delivered. I didn't want it to be too in depth though, because I wanted her to turn to magic straight away and at this point she's not a librarian yet, just a princess. So while she knows what she's doing she might not know how to do it precisely yet. This is going to be our gateway friends. From here on out we're moving on to Arendelle! Still with me?
Thank you so much Grace5231973, Fox24, and Kathryn Claire O'Connor for your reviews on the last chapter and setting my mind at ease with it once more. I was so worried but I'm glad that you found it in character and well written! You are awesome! Love it! Peace and Happy Reading!