Chapter 5 - False Hope
His hand hurt. It was bleeding.
The young prince curled his tiny fist into a ball, to stop the blood from dripping everywhere.
He could hear muffled sobbing coming from inside his mother's room. He knocked on the door that separated the young boy from his mother, and the crying came to an abrupt end.
"Who is it?" He heard his mother ask, her voice cracking.
"It's me." He replied, knowing that the sound of his voice would indicate who he was.
He heard her laugh half-heartedly "You don't have to knock, Adam. You can just come in."
He twisted the door knob and stepped inside. His mother was sitting on the end of the master bed, the canopy hanging above her head.
Her eyes were red and puffy, glistening with remaining tears and her cheeks wet. She quickly wiped her face, attempting to dry her eyes as he stared at her curiously. The cheek where his father had hit her was still red.
Fearing that he had stared at her for too long, he took his gaze off of her and pretended not to notice. He didn't hide it very well.
His mother observed him, looking up and down his body before her eyes landed on his clenched fist, where blood was seeping out between his fingers. Her eyes widened in horror and she stood up and rushed over to him. "Adam, what have you done to yourself?!" She cried, crouching down in front of him "Here, let me take a look." She said, taking hold of his injured hand, and forcing his fingers open. What she found was that the source of the bleeding was a couple of tiny holes in his fingers and palm.
"I pricked myself on some thorns." He admitted.
"How did you do that? You're normally so careful." She commented.
"I was in a rush, and it was dark outside and I couldn't see." He explained.
"What were you doing in the garden by yourself so late at night?" She questioned.
"I wanted to get you a rose to cheer you up." He replied, revealing a white rose to her. "You were upset, I just wanted to make you feel better, and I remembered that giving you a rose made you happy."
"Oh Adam." She sighed, lifting her hand and touching his face, her fingers making contact with his hair as she stroked his cheek with her thumb "What am I going to do with you?"
"Why were you crying, mother?" He asked.
"It doesn't matter, it's nothing for you to worry about." She replied.
"Is it because father hit you?" He questioned. In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea to bring it up, but his childish curiosity and naivety got the better of him. He wasn't very sensitive either.
"You saw..." She murmured. "I thought I told you to go play with your toys! You weren't supposed to see that."
"I'm sorry, mother. I didn't mean any harm, honest."
"I know, sweet heart. I'm not angry, I promise. I just... I didn't want you to have to see that." She told him softly, cupping his face with both hands now.
"Has he done it before?" He questioned.
Her breath hitched. She was quiet for a moment but shook her head before answering "No, never. And I'm sure it won't happen again. He was just angry, that's all. He lashed out, but he didn't mean it."
At the time, he didn't notice that she sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than him. Looking back, he didn't think that was the first time he had hit her. Or the last.
"Your father and I may fight sometimes but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. He may lose his temper sometimes, but you can't help being angry. Even I can get angry like that. It's nothing for you to concern yourself with." She told him. "But thank you for the rose. It's made me feel so much better." She added, taking it from him, and putting it to one side. "I'll make sure to put it in a vase later."
"Now, how about we go find you a bandage for your hand?" She suggested. "But let me kiss it better first." She said, kissing him on the back of his hand. She then quickly leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, catching him off guard. The young prince giggled and kissed her back.
She was still broken, but she put on a brave face and a fake smile, all just for him. Sometimes he wondered what smiles and joyful moments were genuine and what were just a front. Maybe the rose and kisses had made her feel better, or maybe it was just a lie, to make him feel like he had succeeded, that he had fixed everything.
But no amount of roses, or kisses or bandages could fix what he had done to Mrs Potts.
Beast wasn't sure how long it had been since the servants had hurried away in fear. The passage of time was lost on him right now, it could have been a few minutes, it also could have been an hour, maybe more.
He was sitting on the steps leading up to the balcony, his head in his paw. His body was still shaking, both from sheer terror and remnants of his rage.
His mind was racing. He didn't understand, how could he have attacked Mrs Potts? Where was all this anger coming from? Was it some sort of animal behaviour that he couldn't control or had he always been like this?
He had his moments before the transformation, he had gotten angry in the past, shouted, sworn, but he had never struck out at anyone, he wasn't a violent man. Then again, he wasn't man anymore.
The worst part was that he could barely remember doing it. He drew a blank whenever he tried to picture picking Mrs Potts up and attempting to throw her across the room. He remembered getting angry, and storming over to her, but everything after that was a haze, until he had been snapped out of rage induced state.
He had definitely seen red. But what exactly was it that made his anger spiral out of control? What caused him to go into such a state, where all rational thought was gone, and the only thing that was clear to him was a voice screaming inside his head, telling him to unleash all of his hatred and just break something?
It had to be the transformation. Perhaps his thought process had been altered too, the inner workings of his brain had changed, become more like an animal's, it had made him angrier, violent. That had to be it.
So why didn't he believe it?
Maybe the transformation wasn't solely to blame. Maybe it wasn't the transformation at all. Maybe it was just him. All this anger, this unbridled rage, perhaps it had been lurking inside of him all along. When he was human he must have had more restraint, but now that he was a beast... He could just let himself go.
He thought back to that fateful night, where he had watched his father hit his mother through the keyhole of a closed door.
He wondered if the same thing happened to his father, when he hit his mother. Maybe he saw red too, maybe he didn't know what he was doing until the moment had passed.
Maybe Beast got it from him.
No. His father was fully aware of what he was doing. He did not show a single shred of guilt that night. He was in complete control of his actions.
Beast moved his paw and ran it through his mane-like fur as he sighed. The constant tremors running through his body were starting to cease now. His breathing was still shallow and shaky, but other than that, he was calm.
Maybe parts of his anger did come from his father. His mother had always been kind and gentle, so who else could he point the finger at?
He looked down at his other paw, at his open palm and sharp claws. The same paw that had almost ended Mrs Potts life. He began to open and close his fist.
He wondered what would have become of Mrs Potts if he had gone through with it. Would it actually have killed her? Or was there some kind of spell placed upon the servants if they were ever to break, so that they could reform?
He doubted that any one of them wanted to try their luck and find out. Either way, he would have seriously hurt her, and there was the strong possibility he could have killed her.
But that wasn't his intention. He didn't know, he didn't think, he didn't even know he was doing it!
He thought of the servants, by the fireplace once more, huddled together, comforting Mrs Potts. She must be just as shaken up as he is. If she and the others weren't scared of him before, then they certainly were now.
But she wasn't completely in the right either, bringing up his mother like that. The thought of his mother and what she would think of him tormented him enough without some human-turned-teapot mentioning it.
Then again, she never could have known he would lash out like that. It might not have been the best approach, but she was only trying to help, trying to get through to him. Tensions were running high, someone was bound to snap eventually.
So what was he going to do now? Stay in his room for the rest of his life? Hide away from his problems?
He furrowed his brow and glanced over at the family portrait, his eyes falling on his father's ripped face. That's something his father would do, ignore the issue, pretend that it didn't happen.
That wasn't him.
Beast pushed himself off the ground and stood up. He had decided, he had finally made up his mind, he was going to do something he hadn't done in a very long time. He was going to apologise.
He tugged at his cloak as the right side started to slip off his shoulder. He walked over to the door of his room, took hold of the knob and twisted it, and pulled the door open, slowly at first and peaking out of the small crack before pulling it open wider.
A cold draft rushed passed him and blew through his fur. He was about to step out of his room when he froze, almost as if his joints had locked up. However, he had stopped completely by choice. He was still debating with himself.
Why should he be the one to apologise? Mrs Potts had been completely out of line. She was merely a servant, she was beneath him, it was not her place to speak to him like that. She should have known better, and she should have to deal with the consequences of her actions. What did she expect would happen when she brought up his mother in such away?
If anything, she should be the one apologising with him.
He was about to retreat back into his room but hesitated. His paw was still gripping the door knob and he was half in and half out, stranded in the doorway, unsure of what to do.
He shook his head. No, that's something his father would say, what he had conditioned him to think like.
It was time for him to think for himself, to stop doubting his own judgement and keeping his father's teachings so close to his heart. It may be hard to forget, after all those years of listening to his father rattle on about what he should and shouldn't be, but he had to try. He had to try to be a better man, even if he wasn't one.
For the first time in several days, he was stepping out of his room and into the West Wing. It was rather exhilarating as it was equally terrifying, to think that the other castle servants would be able to see him now and his awful appearance.
His grimaced when he caught sight of the stairs leading down. He was much better at walking now, of course, and he had walked up and down the stairs leading to the balcony, but there weren't nearly as many stairs in his room as there was in front of him now.
He groaned. This was going to take some time. He just hoped that apologising to Mrs Potts would be worth the effort.
He carefully descended down the stairs, taking one, slow, cautious step at a time. Eventually he started to get the hang of it, and reached the bottom of the stairs much quicker than he originally thought.
He didn't necessarily have to scour the castle to find them. There was a distant murmuring, it had some unrest to it, and it wasn't coming from too far away, so he just followed the noise to its source.
He padded over and soon enough arrived at the kitchen. The door was open ajar, and the bright orange glow of candle light poured out into the corridor.
He approached the door and was about to enter when he caught wind of their conversation and paused. He peered through the crack, breathing softly as to not get caught, although it was hard to disguise, as it was rather loud when he simply breathed normally.
The servants were standing on the table in the centre of the kitchen, talking amongst themselves.
"Are you sure you're alright, Mrs Potts?" Lumiere asked concernedly.
"I'm fine, honestly. Just a little shaken up that's all." She replied, nestling close to Chip.
"I just can't believe he'd do something like that... He was so close to doing some serious harm." Plumette murmured.
"I didn't think he was capable of doing it, I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known." Mrs Potts stated.
"I still don't think he is capable of that. He didn't seem like himself at all. Did you see the glazed over look in his eyes? It was like... Something had took over. I don't think he knew what he was doing." Lumiere said.
"Are you saying this might have something to do with what he is now?" Plumette asked.
"Maybe. But I really don't know, I'm just as confused as you are." He replied "I'm just glad I managed to snap him out of whatever state he was in before he did something he would regret."
"Or maybe he was just always like this, and we never noticed before because we were too blinded by how he looked and our fond memories of him when he was younger. But now that his appearance has changed, we're seeing him for who he truly is." Cogsworth suggested.
"I don't think he would have ever tried to hurt any of us before, Cogsworth." Lumiere argued.
"I'm just saying what I think. I could be right l, I could be wrong, who can say for certain. I don't think we'll ever truly understand him and what's going on inside his head." Cogsworth muttered.
"I don't think he even fully understands himself." Lumiere replied.
"It's all my fault, I didn't mean to upset him... I just wanted to make him see sense, but I only made it worse." Mrs Potts sighed.
"Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known he would have reacted in such a way, none of us could. We all want him to see sense, but you were the only one brave enough to challenge him." Lumiere comforted her.
"Fat lot of good it did. It probably made him angrier. How are we ever going to get through to him now?" Cogsworth questioned "Let's face it, maybe... Maybe he is a lost cause."
Beast had heard enough. He pushed the kitchen door open, much to the servants' surprise. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as they gave each other worried glances.
"Master, how much did you-" Lumiere began.
"May I talk to Mrs Potts?" Beast interrupted. "Alone." He added. It wasn't a request, more of a demand.
The servants didn't move an inch, instead they stood their ground, exchanging glances between Mrs Potts and him.
"You heard the master, everyone. Give us some room to talk." Mrs Potts spoke up, not a hint of fear in her calm voice.
One by one, the servants climbed down from the table and made their way over to the door.
"Even you, Chip." Mrs Potts told her son, who still lingered beside her. Chip didn't budge, nervously staring at Beast. "Go on now." She said, nudging him gently "It'll be alright."
Hesitantly, Chip hopped down from the table and glided along the floor on top of a saucer.
"Lumiere." Beast addressed the candlestick as he was leaving.
"Yes, master?" He replied.
"Tell the servants to gather by the front entrance of the castle. I'll be there to speak with all of them in a short while." He told him.
Lumiere's mouth fell open and he stood in stunned silence. He quickly regained his composure and clapped his hands- candlesticks together. "Of course, master! I'll get right on it!" He replied, turning and hurrying out of the kitchen.
Beast watched them go, and made sure that none of them remained to listen in at the door before he shut it.
He wasn't sure if there were any servants in the kitchen that physically couldn't leave. If there were, he hoped that they would close their ears.
The two stared at each other for a moment, silent and unmoving. And then she smiled warmly at him, which surprised him immensely. He thought the mere sight of him would disgust her.
"Why don't you take a seat, deary?" She suggested. "There's a stool over there. Go on, take a load off while we chat."
He went over and picked up the stool, as he was being urged to do so.
"Would you like me to pour you a cup of tea? It will help calm you down." She asked as he carried to stool over.
"Alright." He replied simply, placing the stool by the table and sitting down. The small, wooden chair creaked under his weight, and for a moment he thought it might cave beneath him. But the stool only just managed to support his weight.
Mrs Potts poured the tea and pushed it over to him. Beast watched as the steaming, brown liquid swirled inside the tiny cup. Unsure of how to pick up the fragile object without breaking off the handle, or just breaking the whole cup, he scooped it up in both paws and slurped up some of the tea.
He placed the cup down on the saucer and met eyes with Mrs Potts once more.
"Mrs Potts... I'm sorry, for what I did." He apologised "I didn't mean for any of it to happen, I wasn't thinking straight... I don't know what came over me."
"It's fine." Mrs Potts replied "I understand. You don't have to say anymore."
"I don't? But I thought..."
"Thought what?" She questioned.
"I thought you might hate me, and that it would take a lot more convincing for you to forgive me." He replied.
"Hate is a strong word. I could never hate you, because I know that the person that attacked me wasn't really you."
He lowered his head and stared solemnly at the centre of the table, anywhere that wasn't in her direction.
"But you're not solely to blame. It was my fault too, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up your mother in such a way. It wasn't fair on you." She apologised.
"I forgive you." He responded. How could he hold a grudge against her? She was like a godmother to him.
They were quiet for a moment, before Mrs Potts spoke up once more "Can I ask you something?"
He wondered what that something was, and if he was going to like it. He probably wasn't but he couldn't exactly refuse. Well, he could, but he was curious to find out what she wanted to know.
"Sure." Beast responded.
"Are you scared, Adam?" She asked.
Adam. The use of his name struck a cord with him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him that, even before he had become a beast. He had been called sir, or master, or 'my prince' but never Adam. He didn't even refer to himself with that name, not after the transformation. He didn't deserve a name.
"I'm terrified." He admitted, his voice trembling. "I'm scared of what I'm capable of, what I'm turning into... I feel like I don't understand myself anymore. My head is a mess, and I know it's early days, but I thought it would be clearer, but it's not. I keep waking up hoping that it will turn out to be a dream... Instead it's all just a waking nightmare."
He lowered his head and rubbed his face with his paws.
"I know it's hard. It hurts, we've all lost so much in such a short space of time." She responded. "But you have to stay strong. I know it seems hopeless, but like you say, it's early days. First things first, you have to accept that this is your life now until you break the curse. I'm not saying it will get any easier, but we're here to support you for every step of the way. We want to be there for you, we want to help you in any way we can, but we can't if you keep pushing us away. So please, please... Let us help you, because you can't do this alone." She pleaded. "You have to have hope, so that we can all get through this together."
He took a moment to think. Mrs Potts' words were rather inspiring. The situation did seem hopeless, but his servants wanted to stick by him and help him. Why should he distance himself from them when all they wanted to do was support him?
"I'll try to have hope. I can't promise anything, but I'll try." He told her strongly.
"That's all we can really ask for." She replied, smiling at him. "Some days will seem worse than others, and there may be times where you want to give up, but it will get better. I'm sure of it."
"If you say so." He murmured indifferently.
"I do say so." She replied. "One more thing..." She began "If you ever pick me up like that again, I swear, I'll give you a good scalding." She warned, although she was partly joking. At least, he thought she was. He decided not to test it to find out.
He chuckled lightly "I hear you."
The kitchen door opened and Lumiere poked his head in "Master, the servants are ready when you are." He told him, before withdrawing from the room once more.
"Looks like you're being summoned." Mrs Potts commented.
"It would seem so." Beast replied, rising from the stool. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to do this." He admitted.
"Are you worried about what they might think of you, because of what you look like now?" She asked.
He nodded "Very much."
"Trust me, they don't care about that. After all, they're in pretty much the same boat as you. Except most of us don't have hands anymore, but you do! Well, to an extent, so count yourself lucky."
"I'm positively thrilled." He replied sarcastically.
"It'll be fine. They just need some reassurance, that's all. Talking to them will make you feel better, as they share the same pain as you." She told him. "Now go on, you can't keep them waiting!"
"Alright, I'm going." He responded, walking over to the kitchen door but stopping when he reached it. "Thank you, Mrs Potts, for talking to me. In the end, you did manage to get through to me."
"Well, I suppose nearly getting broken was worth it then." She replied, winking at him.
He hummed in response and exited the kitchen. It was good that they could make light of what had happened. Well, she could, but he on the other hand found it hard to. He failed to see how there could be a funny side to what he had done.
"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this." He whispered to himself as he walked back towards the grand staircase, where all the servants were gathered. Or at least, the ones that could move into that room. He'd have to send a message round to the ones that couldn't make it.
The hushed whispering amongst the household objects died as he walked passed the servants and onto the staircase, positioning himself so that everyone could see him.
His eyes surveyed each one, trying to get a read on what they were thinking. Unfortunately, it was very hard to tell, due to some of them not even having proper faces.
Beast straightened his hunched over back and stood taller, prouder as he cleared his throat "Greetings, everyone. Forgive me, for keeping you waiting, I've had a lot to deal with over the last couple of days."
The servants watched him silently. "Anyway..." He continued "I know that you're all finding it hard to deal with this sudden change, I am too. None of us ever imagined that something like this was possible, and yet here we are. And I'm not asking you all to carry on as normal, but, I hope that we can all adjust and try to live our lives in the simplest way possible. And if we endure, and hold out hope... One day, a maiden will come here, and break this curse."
He didn't believe it himself. What girl in her right mind would ever come to such a decrepit castle surrounded in an eternal winter? She'd have to be mad. But he was just saying what they wanted to hear.
"Until then, I also ask you that you be patient with me. My head is all over the place. I'm still learning and I'm rather unsure of myself. I would appreciate it if you give me the space I need. But I will try harder to be active again, perhaps give you orders to distract yourself if that's what you really want. We must do whatever we can to make this experience a little more bearable for ourselves." He finished.
The servants turned to one another, muttering in agreement. They seemed satisfied.
It was time for him to take his leave. He didn't want to linger for very long. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my room if you need anything. But I shall come back down... soon enough."
And so, he withdrew, returning to his room. The day seemed to flown by so fast, so much had happened, he was completely drained and exhausted.
He closed his bedroom door and pressed his head up against it. He had done. He had actually stood in front of the servants and spoken to them. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, leaning back against the door.
Thank goodness that was over. He thought it would make him feel worse, the servants seeing his face, but he actually felt better, like an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
He slowly slid down the door and sank into a sitting position, resting his head on the door.
Hopefully his little speech would keep the servants off his back for a while. Truth be told, he didn't have much hope for a maiden ever showing up at the castle and falling in love with him.
Suppose he could pray that one would eventually turn up. Perhaps one of the maidens from the ballroom dance would return, and fall in love with him on the basis that he was a prince. It was the only real possibility he could think of.
But pray? He hadn't had a reason to pray for a long time, as for a while, he had everything he could ever want. At least, he thought he did. His parents had been religious, of course, and in turn he was too. But the last time he had prayed, and meant it, was when he had prayed for his mother's recovery.
Those prayers hadn't been answered.
But what else did he have to lose? Nothing.
He didn't put his paws together, or even close his eyes. He remained where he was and rolled his head back, and pleaded to whoever might be up there listening, to answer his prayers, for someone to free him from this hell.
He would try to keep to his word and be hopeful. Or at least pretend to be.
But being hopeful and praying didn't save his mother. Would anyone listen this time? One can only wait and see.
The only hope he truly had was that it would be over soon, before his worst fear was realised. Before he lost himself to his anger once more.
He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was, for everything to be normal again. But after the whole ordeal, returning to that sense of normality seemed to be getting further and further away from his reach.
A/N - The warning on the last chapter was more so for any young people that might be reading, as I rated this a K+, and I didn't think it was necessary to change it to a T rating. I hope it didn't turn anyone off reading it, since there was a lack of feedback, save for one person. It was probably nothing for me to be concerned about though. I just worry about stupid things, 'tis all.
Anyway, I originally wanted to make this part of chapter 4, but I thought it would drag on for too long, so I split them. This is the last chapter from the early days of the transformation, they'll be a big time skip in chapter 6! Exciting times.
I checked my numbers, and I can say for certain that chapter 15 is the last chapter before we arrive at the plot of the movie. It's going to be so much fun to show it to you all! I'm currently working on chapter 10, so their are plenty of chapters still stock piled and waiting to be posted. I'm really enjoying writing this story and sharing it with you all, and I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!
I'll see you in the next one!