"I miss Avonlea. I miss my family." Belle voiced the thoughts she had suppressed for almost five years, but today it welled up and overwhelmed her. At first she had not wanted to think about home, and then it had become habit. "I want to see them, before... before..."
Before what? asked Otulissa.
"Before it's time. You know. The Dark One. Marriage." Belle choked out the words. She imagined him coming to fetch her on her twenty-first birthday and winced at the thought. It would be humiliating, as if she was one of the packages the guild was hired to deliver. She wanted to have a chance to say a proper good-bye to her friends and family before she disappeared from their lives.
Then again, she had already disappeared. She had meant to send messages back, but kept putting it off. Time had flown by as "soon" turned to "next month" turned to years. Now with the deadline in sight, it was almost too late. The fate that had always waited for her in the abstract suddenly seemed so much more real.
"If you are wishing to return to Avonlea, then that you can do," said Lumiere. "We can be there as soon as today or if you are taking the long road, then some weeks..."
"I know. It's just..." It would be terribly awkward. Could she just show up unannounced at her mother's door as if she had just popped out for an afternoon's walk? What would she say? And her friends. What must they think, after she had just abandoned them all? It was as if she had run away into a dream, and now faced the jarring discontinuity of waking up. "I'm a little bit afraid."
Why? They'll be happy to see you, won't they? said Eskereye.
"Yes, but it's been so long."
That doesn't matter. Eskereye looked at her sister. We were together, then we were apart, then here we are again. So what?
"So what?" echoed Belle. "So it's just... strange."
Do you want to go back? asked Otulissa.
"Yes, of course, that's what I just said, isn't it?" Belle was annoyed with herself. She should have been better about writing home. But she hadn't, and couldn't fix that now. She whispered, "Do the brave thing, that's what my mother always said."
Belle decided it wouldn't be quite as awkward if she rode in on the road as anyone without magic might do, so Lumiere found them a shortcut through the Infinite Forest to Avonlea, emerging from the trees discreetly to find the road to the capital, and from there to the royal keep. This way, there would be some advance warning from the guards and servants stationed at the castle. She let the stable hand lead Philippe away. The boy was too well-trained to ask any impertinent questions, but she didn't doubt the gossip would spread like wildfire the instant she was out of sight. She felt smaller and more exposed without the horse to shield her, but forced herself to continue past the gates.
"Belle!" Her sister Sylvie was the fastest on her feet, the first of her family to greet her. "It's really you? You're back!"
Belle cleared her throat and smiled weakly, bracing herself as Sylvie ran up for an enthusiastic hug. "Apparently so. You look... bigger. I almost didn't recognize you with your hair like that..."
Sylvie stepped back, rolling her eyes at the obvious. "You're one to talk? What is that you're wearing?"
Belle touched her messenger's hat self-consciously. "I joined the guild in the Maritime Kingdom."
"Guild?"
"The scribes and messengers." She showed her sister the official badge. "I could hardly go around telling everyone I was a runaway princess. It was bad enough when..." Belle stopped herself just in time. "Never mind. How is everyone? How is... how is Father?"
Sylvie deflated at the mention of their father. "He's... much the same. You heard?"
"Lumiere told me." Belle looked at the Timer, who was hanging back in human form along with the two griffons, giving her the illusion of privacy in the middle of the courtyard where Sylvie had caught up to them. "And Mother? And my friends?"
"Mother is well enough. Come on, she's in her chambers. They're both there." Sylvie tugged at Belle's elbow. "She doesn't like to say, but I know she really missed you, you monster. Where were you that you couldn't write us a letter? Not even one?"
"I'm sorry." Belle flushed guiltily. "I know I should have."
"What if something had happened to you?"
"Well, it's not as if I was alone. Lumiere and the griffons were with me. No one would dare go against them." No one except the Evil Queen, Belle didn't say. She didn't want to worry her family. Well, not any more than she already had.
"Hmmph. Too bad your friends didn't have the benefit of such protectors!" Sylvie's tone turned accusing.
"What? What do you mean? Are they... are they all right?" Belle managed to ask the question, afraid of the answer hinted at in Sylvie's expression.
"Yes, no thanks to the Dark One." Sylvie glanced around, lowering her voice. "The clerics accused them — those two town rats of yours, Jacques? and the other — of so many horrible crimes. But after what happened to the archbishop, people believed it. I think... I think Mother saved them somehow."
"You said they're all right..." Belle felt another wave of guilt. She should have been there to help them. Whatever happened had nothing to do with them! How could anyone blame them?
"They had to leave Avonlea. They were excommunicated and condemned as warlocks. Mother told me later that she sent them to the Dark One's land."
"What about Lizzy? Is she safe?"
"She and her mother went when the boys did. It was only a matter of time before the Church started accusing them, too. They had more sense than to stick around and wait for the notice of excommunication." Sylvie squeezed her arm in reassurance. "Lizzy sent us a message a few months after that, saying they settled in a town in Cockayne."
Belle let out a relieved breath. "Oh. That's good." Cockayne was said to be a strange place, but people always associated dark magic and necromancy and monsters with the Dark One, so Belle didn't put too much stock in rumors. One thing was true, though, and that was that Rumplestiltskin always had a price for everything, and that must include living in his domain. "I hope... I hope the Dark One didn't make things too difficult for them."
Sylvie shrugged. "Didn't seem like it."
Belle didn't have time to interrogate her further — they had arrived at their mother's quarters. A maid servant intercepted them at the door, formally announcing their arrival to her ladyship. Lumiere and the griffons stayed in the antechamber with the maid, allowing Belle some privacy with her family.
A tear-soaked re-union ensued. After the laughter and tears had run dry, Colette wanted to hear everything about the years she had missed in her daughter's life. Belle didn't answer at first, her eyes going to her father. Maurice sat in his armchair, his face retaining the same vacant expression he had worn throughout Belle's entire visit. She tried to get him to look at her, but his gaze was unfocused, unseeing.
"He's been like this since the Dark One cursed him," said Colette in a low voice.
Belle swallowed, nodding. She had known, but it wasn't the same as coming face to face with that awful blankness. Her father hadn't worried about her, hadn't missed her, hadn't even known she was gone, or that she had now returned. Now that she saw him, she knew that she couldn't leave him again, not like this. She touched his hand. "Father... it's me."
She closed her eyes and sent a tendril of magic towards him. Whatever curse the Dark One had laid upon Maurice, it was beyond anything Belle had learned. She would have to ask Lumiere about it later. For now, she turned back to Colette and answered her questions as best she could.
"I had a few adventures, I suppose." Belle smiled as convincingly as she could. She didn't think she could handle her mother getting upset at how close Belle had come to dying, or that she had betrayed the gods by releasing the bound Titan. For that matter, she didn't want to betray Prometheus by spreading news of his freedom. "Met some interesting people. I, um, I learned some magic."
"Magic!" Sylvie laughed. "That'll show that Marceline."
"Marceline?" Belle was in no great hurry to see her cousin again, but she couldn't help but be curious.
Colette sighed, giving Sylvie a reproving look. "She hasn't had an easy time of it, either, despite appearances. Who can blame her for dabbling in sorcery?"
"But only the lightest, the most respectable and god-fearing magic, as befits a lady of such noble birth," said Sylvie with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "No wild thaumaturgy or dark arts, oh no!"
"Oh." Belle hadn't stopped to think about whether the brand of magic the Titan had poured into her was respectable. It certainly wasn't approved by the gods. She forced a laugh. "I don't dabble in the dark arts, either." According to Lumiere, it was light magic that flowed through her.
Sylvie looked at her suspiciously. "But you're betrothed to the Dark One."
Belle shrugged. "Lumiere says he won't mind."
"Oh, Belle." Colette sounded worried now.
"No, no, it's fine." Belle pushed away memories of blood and pain and imprisonment and concentrated on the wonders she had encountered in her travels. "I learned it in Yrkthera. They have one of the oldest libraries in the Enchanted Forest, and a temple to the gods bigger than anything in Avonlea."
"Oh, yes, I've read of it," said Colette. "Yrkthera... their princess married a northerner, didn't she? I heard he saved her from a sleeping curse."
"It's true. I was there!" And then she had to tell them all about the wedding, while no one mentioned the wedding that loomed over their own family.
"Marceline got married, too," noted Sylvie. "To Lord Girard's son. The one people used to call 'LeFou'. Not so much anymore, though. Not after... Gaston."
An uncomfortable silence descended for a few moments, before Colette changed the subject. "The fire festival is in two days..."
Sylvie nodded. "You should go, Belle. It'll be good luck before, well, you know."
Belle shook her head, uncomfortable with the idea of making a public appearance.
"Live a little," said Sylvie. "No use dwelling on the inevitable."
"I suppose so." Belle eyed her sister suspiciously. "Why? Have you found someone to singe your feet with?" It was the tradition for young couples and newly-weds to leap over the festival fire as a blessing on their love. Not that the priests would allow the Dark One's bride to taint their ritual, but they couldn't completely bar a royal daughter from attendance, not without risking mortal insult to the king.
Sylvie grinned slyly. "Maybe..."
The whole family went to the festival. The king and queen presided over the official blessing conducted by the Church, a show of harmony belied by the dark look the acting archbishop, Remy, sent Belle's way as their paths crossed before the ceremony.
"Did the Church talk to you about lifting the curse on the archbishop?" Belle whispered the question to Lumiere once the crowd was distracted by the dancing and drinking. She had already asked him if he could help Maurice, but Lumiere told her to ask the Dark One, as the curse was Rumplestiltskin's invention, not one of the classic ones like being turned to stone, dancing to death, or being trapped in eternal sleep.
"The Church wants nothing of my help," answered Lumiere. He wore his natural form, but half-faded into the shadows behind Belle, where only the most attentive would see him.
Most people didn't spare much notice for them. The rest of the royal family had acknowledged her (presumably temporary) return without much fanfare, as it didn't make any difference to them when Belle left, whether it was five years ago or tomorrow, since she had only ever been on loan to Avonlea.
"Oh, look at you, traipsing back to Avonlea as bold as bold can be," was Marceline's comment on seeing her at the festival.
At her cousin's tone, any vague notion of asking her about her magic (and whether she had come across any interesting spellbooks in Lord Girard's library) evaporated from Belle's tongue. She fell back into their childhood dynamic, rolling her eyes and murmuring, "Don't you have a fire to jump into... over?"
Marceline smiled with a sweetness that didn't quite conceal her irritation. She hooked an arm around her husband's elbow. "Come along, Michel. Step lively!"
Michel nodded gravely at Belle, then let his wife tug him towards the flames.
"Do you think they're happy together?" Belle whispered to Lumiere as she watched them join the line for the sacred fire.
"Ah, those two, it is clearly not a match of love," said Lumiere. "But for the making of heirs, perhaps it is being enough."
Belle winced. That didn't sound much like happiness. Was it enough? Would they take lovers outside their marriage? Marceline and Michel had known each other since childhood, on friendly enough terms for a degree of flexibility in their marriage. It was different for Belle. She hardly dared to imagine the Dark One's punishment for infidelity. She took what happened to her father as a warning.
Belle sighed, the festivities suddenly feeling oppressive. Too tired to try to force herself into the conversations around her, she pasted a polite smile on her face and watched the crowd without much enthusiasm. The garland of flowers she wore on her head for luck slowly wilted in the heat.
Later, after everyone had gone home, Belle remembered one familiar face that hadn't shown. "I didn't see Miss Elinore at the festival today. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her at all since I came back."
"Pff. That's the idea," Sylvie told her. "Her days as a governess were numbered, after that business with Gaston. Mother dismissed her right off, and later someone — most likely our royal grandmama — encouraged her in rather strong terms to take the veil."
"She became a nun?" That wasn't what Belle had expected. Although Elinore had hewed close to the orthodoxy, she struck Belle as far too worldly to want to retire from the world. "Not really the type, is she?"
Sylvie scowled. "She deserved it, the old hypocrite."
"Well, maybe she'll find peace and enlightenment," said Belle. "Stranger things have happened." As she knew from personal experience, not that she wanted to explain that to her sister.
On the other hand, a few familiar faces had appeared in unexpected places. It took Belle a few moments to recognize one of the (former?) students from Lizzy's school, encountered in a corridor in the royal keep. "Wait... aren't you Henriette?"
It was indeed Henriette. As she explained to Belle, the school had found a quiet sponsor in Lady Colette. By framing the school as a charitable work, she had made it difficult for the Church to openly oppose it, especially as Lady Colette was still seen among the people as a pious woman. As more students graduated from the school, she arranged employment for many of them in Avonlea's civil service. The school acquired a veneer of respectability with Miss Hora as the Headmistress. Belle didn't ask if she was still passing for human. According to Henriette, Hora was still a 'grumpy old haddock' who kept everyone strictly in line.
A few days after the festival, Belle gathered up her courage and told her mother, "I need to take Father to Schlaraffenland..." At Colette's shocked expression, Belle hurried on with, "It's the only way. I don't know how to lift the curse, and Lumiere says he can't, either, so we have to ask the Dark One."
"But..." began Colette feebly. "The Dark One? His deals have already cost us too much..."
"I know, but we can't leave Father like this. We have to help him." Whatever Maurice had done, he didn't deserve to be trapped in this living death forever. And it was hard on Colette, who had to see him like this every day, who had to care for him when he couldn't even recognize her. Belle took her mother's hands in hers. "I'm so sorry. I should have come back sooner."
Colette managed a small smile and squeezed back. "It's all right, my dear. It was we who failed you."
Belle shook her head. "I know you did everything you could for me. Even Father... I just wish he let me make my own choices in my life."
Colette sighed. "And now you are choosing to take him to the Dark One? You know that isn't what he would want. Who knows what price that demon would demand in return for lifting his curse?"
"I wish you wouldn't call him that." Belle drew back, letting go of her mother's hands and not quite meeting her eyes. "He's to be my husband, you know."
"How could I forget!" Colette moved to her husband's side, reaching out to make an unnecessary adjustment to his collar. "We made that deal to save all Avonlea, but your father is only one man. Please, Belle, don't let yourself fall deeper in debt..."
"But I have to try," Belle pleaded. "I can't abandon Father without even asking. Besides, if Rumplestiltskin is my husband, then won't he be more willing to listen to his wife's request?"
"Perhaps." Colette looked at Maurice, as if contemplating the times her husband listened or not to his wife's requests. Belle waited for her decision, which came after a long silence. "Very well. We'll go together, as a family. If we leave within the week, we should arrive at the Dark Castle just before your birthday."
Belle had been born on the summer solstice, which was nearly two months after the fire festival. With a fast ship, good horses, and well-maintained trade roads, they had time enough for the journey from Avonlea to the Dark Castle without resorting to magic.
Belle knelt at her father's feet and kissed his right hand in a gesture of filial piety. "I promise I'll do my best to save you, Father. I know you hate the Dark One, but we are to be family, so be angry at me if you must, but know that I have to do this."
As she climbed back to her feet, she heard her mother mutter under her breath, "Gods have mercy on us all."
Well. Maybe not the gods. It was Rumplestiltskin's mercy they needed now, and Belle was determined to see for herself if he was capable of it.
Three days later, they set off from the capital, taking a barge to the northern sea, then embarking on one of the king's warships, a single-masted cog with a rectangular sail. It was big enough to carry Belle, her parents, her sister, Lumiere, and a retinue of servants and guards.
Two of the 'servants' turned out to be ex-clerics who had begged Lady Colette to allow them to tag along. Upon closer questioning, they were not so much ex-clerics — they claimed to serve the gods in their hearts if not in their mouths — as junior disciples rebelling against Remy, the acting archbishop.
"You want to ask the Dark One to lift the curse on Octavius?" Belle wasn't surprised that Remy had forbidden the whole idea. "One, Remy seems in no hurry to relinquish his position, and two, it goes against the Church teachings, I would think."
"We are willing to pay whatever penance is owed," said the ex-cleric named Andre. "It may be a sin to deal with the Dark One, but it would be a greater sin not to try to save the archbishop."
"And what did Remy have to say about that?" wondered Belle.
"That he would rather cut his own tongue out than ask the Dark One for anything," said Andre glumly. "He threatened to cut /our/ tongues out if we continued 'pestering' him about the matter."
"Yes, but do the scriptures not say 'let the devil's work by the devil's hands be undone'?" argued Hugh, the other rebellious cleric.
"I thought that was more meant as an ironic comment on fate twisting villains against themselves," said Belle. "A traitor being executed by the usurper he put in place, or a murderer falling prey to a bandit, that kind of thing."
"That is a laywoman's interpretation," said Hugh haughtily. "The truth is more subtle."
"You ran away. That's not very subtle."
"Father Remy is not the archbishop," said Andre. "It is to his grace that we owe our obedience. When he wakes from the curse, his judgement will be all that matters."
"And you think he'll be grateful," Belle surmised.
"He will know who has been loyal," said Hugh. "Loyalty is a virtue praised by the gods, rewarded in heaven even when punished on earth."
A comforting thought. Belle hoped for his sake it was true.
The ship became lonelier when the two griffons flew off by themselves to the Dark Castle.
We're not seagulls, was Eskereye's explanation. Floating trees make terrible perches.
She means she gets seasick, said Otulissa. We'll tell Rumplestiltskin you're on your way, so he can mount a proper welcome for you.
"Ah, well, I don't know..." stammered Belle. She didn't want any kind of grand formal reception and had been hoping to slip in quietly.
SHE means so that the Dark One doesn't throw things at your head because you've caught him on an off day, Eskereye interpreted in turn. Fireballs, for instance.
"Does he really do that?"
"He admittedly can be sometimes silly, a child," said Lumiere. "Just as much as these two silly children." He waved a claw at the griffons. "But it is true that he is not at his best when surprised, and I think you already will surprise him enough just being you yourself."
"Oh." Belle wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she let it go, and simply bade the griffons a good flight. "We'll see you later, then!"
As the ship set out to deeper waters, Belle thought that she was glad that they would bypass the Maritime Kingdom. It would have been dreadfully awkward to be recognized as "Lacey" the scribe-messenger.
Every day, the two ex-clerics prayed for Belle and her family. One morning, they cornered Belle on the aft deck and tried to get her to join in. Their prayers went beyond mere words to self-flagellation with the sacred scourges of their great earth mother. Andre had an extra whip, which he offered to Belle.
"No, thank you," Belle told them, trying not to visibly flinch. She had known of the practice, but due to her rank and general estrangement from the Church of Avonlea, she had never had occasion to see it up close. "I, uh, I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it would do any good."
"Sincere prayers to the gods are never spoken in vain," said Hugh. "Your lady mother knows this. And there is no better proof of sincerity than blood and tears." Bared to the waist, he whipped the three leather thongs onto his own back again and again, and Belle could see the scars of his devotion criss-crossing his skin. He clenched his teeth in a fanatical grin even as his eyes glistened with pain.
She shuddered, thankful that Lady Colette had never been as extreme in her faith as these clerics. Her mother hadn't attended public services since Belle was a small child, instead making her prayers and sacrifices in private at the shrine in the royal keep. On shipboard, Colette never joined the ex-clerics either, telling them that her supplications were between herself and the gods with no need for priestly intercession — a stance tolerated in the noble class, though edging on heresy for the commoners. "My mother says our good will is proof enough for the gods."
"Lady Colette has the wisdom of the saints," said Andre through tight jaws, "but it may not be enough. Schlaraffenland is a demon-infested hell — everyone knows that." He used a lighter hand than his compatriot, and had relatively more breath to speak. "The Dark One practices necromancy, a foul art forbidden by the gods since the dawn of time. The very air is tainted. We fear you will be corrupted by its malign influence."
"Well, I'm to marry him, necromancy or not." Perhaps the Dark One's lands really were full of demons, but if they were 'demons' like Lumiere or Cogsworth, Belle didn't think it was anything to worry about.
"If you are pure of heart, the gods themselves will strike him down if he dares touch you," Hugh said, panting with exertion. "Is it not written that 'the fire of the faithful is equal to a thousand spells'?"
"Like the martyrs who set themselves on fire?" Belle shuddered. All magic came with a price, and such a high price could buy powerful magic indeed, as recorded in ancient, gruesome tales. "I'd really rather not..."
"Then we may pray for a miracle," said Andre ominously. He flicked the scourge, letting the knotted ends bite into his flesh. "We will endure this cleansing for the sake of all Avonlea. May our pain be heard and redeemed. May the gods fill you with their flames. May the Dark One be struck down..."
"He did save Avonlea," said Belle softly, disturbed at the sight but having nowhere to hide from it. Their suffering shone from them, mystical power tangling with the pattern of their scourges. The air quivered with something dark and dangerous. "You could be more grateful, instead of wishing him dead."
"His death will free the archbishop," grated Hugh, his arm rising again and again to whip himself into a near-ecstasy of agony. "His death will free your father... it could even free you. If you were a true daughter of Avonlea, you would scourge yourself to bare bone for the gods to see. Your blood would call to them like a beacon..."
"Yes, but if I can persuade the Dark One to lift his curse, the gods don't need to be involved at all." Shaken by the intensity of the flagellants' self-punishment, Belle said the first thing that came to mind. She was finding it hard to think, being caught up in a morbid fascination as she watched.
Their faces darkened at her blasphemy.
Then the sudden appearance of Lumiere at the bottom of the aft deck broke her out of her trance.
"Lumiere!" Belle waved at the Timer in relief. She excused herself hastily and slipped around the clerics. "Don't let me keep you from your devotions..."
Andre grunted in disapproval. "You may abandon us as you abandon your people, but we will not fail in our duty."
Belle averted her eyes and fled. Behind her, she could hear the clerics chanting hymns and prayers.
"Are you all right?" Lumiere followed her to the other side of the ship.
Belle stared out at the sky and the water. "Do you... do you think it works? Scourging yourself like that? Do the gods answer if you hurt yourself enough?"
Lumiere joined her at the railing. "Ah, the gods. The gods are few and the world is large. They have not the time to help everyone as they might wish, so people say they listen to the one who cries the loudest. Who most is in pain..."
"Is it true?"
Lumiere shrugged. "The clerics believe it. But when the gods do not answer, they see the fault to lie in mortal kind, that they do not deserve succor. A fault they wish to atone for with more punishment in hopes that the gods will relent and forgive."
"In the holy books, it was more... I thought it was a metaphor." Belle closed her eyes, trying to banish the image of burning-eyed clerics lashing themselves until they bled. "Or a practice from a more primitive time. Something they only did symbolically now. But they... this... I wish my mother hadn't agreed to bring them..."
"Lady Colette still hopes for her gods to intervene in your favor, perhaps," said Lumiere. "To free you from your fate."
Belle shook her head. "They wouldn't, not after what I did." Not when the stolen fire burned in her soul. She kept it tamped down in the presence of the clerics, afraid that their prayers really could be heard by their gods.
"You must be careful. If you fall into the hands of the Church, and they learn of the one you freed from the rock, it may be your pain that they feed to the gods."
"They think they can use me to kill the Dark One if they pray hard enough," said Belle. "It's a kind of magic, isn't it? I could feel it on them..."
"They are fools," said Lumiere. "It is human magic that they mistake for the divine, and it is not strong enough to do direct injury to the Dark One."
Belle bit her lip. "I don't want to hurt him. They can't put the spell on me without me knowing, can they?"
"Not if you are vigilant."
For the rest of the voyage, Belle avoided the clerics as best she could. Sylvie did the same, mingling with the crew and learning the ropes, as it were. She had always been better at fitting in with any group than Belle, and sometimes the latter envied her sister for it. But not even the easy-going Sylvie enjoyed the flagellants' company.
"It makes my spine curl," Sylvie confided to Belle. "The way they do that to themselves. And after awhile, all that chanting... don't you think it's creepy? Not like a proper prayer at all."
Belle nodded. She asked her mother later about them, hoping Colette hadn't commissioned their prayers for Belle's sake.
"No, dear," Colette assured her. "The one thing Remy and I see eye to eye on is that the flagellants follow a dark path. They claim to buy miracles through the mortification of their own flesh, a trade the archbishop was too willing to condone, but surely it cannot be the gods' wish that we offer them our pain."
"Then why did you let them travel with us?"
Colette sighed. "Despite everything, their faith is not false, and if they can sway the Dark One with their prayers, if they can save your father, how can I in good conscience deny them? After all, it may be I who am mistaken in my beliefs."
Belle was startled to hear the uncertainty in her mother's voice. Colette had always seemed so confident in knowing right from wrong, dark from light. When had this doubt taken root in her?
If they can save your father...
Was that why? Colette hadn't been able to save Maurice, and the years of helplessness had worn her down.
"I'm sorry," Belle whispered. She hugged her mother. "We'll talk to the Dark One. He'll see that you deserve better..."
"He'll see our desperation, I fear," Colette admitted. "And offer us another deal."
"Maybe it won't be so bad." Belle smiled weakly. "Lumiere's told me of plenty of deals where the Dark One didn't ask for anything too onerous. It's not all brides and firstborns."
Colette straightened out of the hug and met Belle's gaze. "Whatever the price, I will pay it, not you. I won't let you sacrifice yourself for your father, when he..." She shook her head, not finishing the sentence.
Belle bowed her head, not wanting to argue with her mother.
Later, Lumiere guided her through meditative techniques that made it easier to sense the magical influences around her. Soon enough, they would arrive in Cockayne.
Author's notes: Cockaigne and Schlaraffenland are mythical countries in medieval folklore, lands of wish fulfillment and the overturning of normal society and its restrictions. It got a bad rep as a land of worthless lazy people, but I figure in this AU that's the other kingdoms' propaganda, not wanting their serfs to run away to a supposed earthly paradise, lol. I originally came across "Schlaraffenland" via a song based on a 16th century poem by Hans Sachs. (Can be found on Youtube. Search for "Schlaraffenland Adaro")
And this is OUAT, so there's no such thing as historical (or geographical, economic, ecological, etc.) accuracy, and if there's something kinky going on with the scourging clerics... it's not that kind of fanfiction, so don't even go there...