Chapter 26 - Remnants of Her Past

Another day had passed. Belle was still working on the ballroom, but she had spent a considerable amount of time with Beast yesterday sorting through all those books they had collected together.

Beast wasn't sure how much progress she had made on the ballroom, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough. It seemed like she wasn't far off completing it. Perhaps she was just adding some finishing touches.

While Belle was busy, Beast took it upon himself to search through the library to find the book he deeply treasured, and had been promising to read to Belle for the last couple of days. Truth be told, he had never planned on actually reading it to her, as he didn't want her to know he was fond of a novel that had quite a bit of romance in it.

It took quite a bit of searching but eventually he found it hidden on one of the far shelves. Someone had put it with some non-fiction books. That was probably his father's doing, hiding it in the section he wouldn't think to look in.

Guinevere and Lancelot, or better known as King Arthur and the Round Table. His mother's favourite book, as well as his own. He hadn't laid eyes on it in years.

He decided to give it a read, as the temptation was just too strong. He wanted to rekindle his love for it. And then afterwards he'd figure out what book he would masquerade as his favourite, as he doubted Belle would ever stop asking him about it.

He hugged the book close to his chest and snuck outside without anyone noticing. He thought that was quite a feat, slipping passed everyone. He wasn't exactly easy to miss.

He wanted to read and enjoy his book somewhere secluded and quiet, where no one would bother or interrupt him. He decided that he would read it in his mother's rose garden, so that he could feel closer to her there whilst he read.

Beast trudged through the snow and settled down on the stone bench. The air was cold, and the sun was nearing the edge of the sky as it approached sunset. But he wasn't too aware of what was going on around him, he was too focused on the book. He opened it up to the first page and began to read.

He was about half-way through when a voice broke the quiet atmosphere. "What are you reading?"

It was Belle. He had been so engrossed in his book he hadn't even heard her approaching.

He lifted his head sharply and slammed the book shut, covering the front cover with his paws. "Nothing." He replied. He sounded so suspicious.

Her red dress and cloak fluttered in the light breeze as she walked over, glancing at the book he was failing to hide from her. "Guinevere and Lancelot." She commented, sitting down beside.

"Well, actually... King Arthur and the Round Table... Knights and men and swords and things." He corrected her, trying his best to sound tough.

She hummed in response "Still, it's a romance."

"Alright." He muttered, huffing in defeat.

Belle stared at him for a moment as he avoided her gaze. "Is this your favourite book?" She asked, reaching out and touching it. He kept a firm hold on it for a few seconds, but then let go, and allowed her to take a look.

"Yes, it is." He answered truthfully.

She opened it up and looked over the pages. "I don't get it. You stick your tongue out a romances, but you didn't have a problem with Romeo and Juliet when I read it to you, you even quoted it yesterday, and now you're reading this?" She questioned. "Do you hate the genre or not?"

"I-" He began, turning to look at her "I don't hate romance. It's just... When you're forced to do something, you grow to resent it. I've been forced to like romance, to be romantic to... Improve myself." He explained. He couldn't go into too much detail, as he was talking about the curse, and the fact he had to do the one thing he didn't have a clue about. When he was a prince, he treated women like objects, flirted, touched them, kissed them, when there was no love behind it. To win a maiden's heart now, to break the curse, he had to be affectionate, open, caring, and show his sensitive side. The way his father had conditioned him still influenced his thought process, so there was a part of him that disliked these ideals. There was a lingering thought that he shouldn't have to work to be loved.

But that was wrong. That wasn't what love was. That wasn't how it worked. He didn't really know what real love was anymore. He had so many conflicting ideas, beliefs that had been forced upon him.

All he knew was that he needed to be someone worth loving. But he wasn't sure if he was even capable of that.

He supposed he had hated romance for a while not just because he needed to strive to be like the male love interest in the stories he read - which was something he didn't think he would ever accomplish looking the way he did - but also because he was jealous that most of the couples in these stories got a happy ending. And if they didn't, then at least they got to be together, to know and feel love, for as long as they could. Why would he want to read about something he would never get to experience himself?

Where was his happy ending?

"I could never truly hate it. Guinevere and Lancelot has been one of my favourite books ever since I was young. The love they had, the love that you see in these types of stories... Is beautiful." He finished.

Belle smiled and handed the book back to him. "I agree completely." She responded. "Sometimes I wish I knew what that felt like."

Beast's eyes widened, and the two shared a glance. She wanted to know how that felt too? Was there anything else they had in common? The list seemed to be endless.

Beast quickly looked away and hugged the book close to his chest again.

A silence washed over them. Belle was looking at the roses that surrounded them while he stared at the ground, lost in thought. "Something's been bothering me."

"What's that?" Belle asked.

He turned to look at her again. "Why did you save me from the wolves?" He questioned. "You had every right to leave me there. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. Why didn't you?"

She hesitated before answering. "Because it was the right thing to do. I couldn't leave you there to get mauled to death after you saved me from them. I felt like I owed you for that."

"But why didn't you try to escape again while I was bedridden? You had the perfect opportunity. I couldn't move, the servants were distracted. You could have left as soon as you brought me back here."

"Again, I still owed you for saving my life. I couldn't just dump you on the doorstep and leave. No one else could have treated your wounds. I wanted to make sure you fully healed... And I'm still here because I want to help the servants." She explained. "I still want to help you."

He was touched by that. He didn't think he was worth helping, or even worth saving. What did she see in him? Could she really see passed his hideous appearance? Could she really see the good that was hidden deep within his soul?

"Besides... There's still a life sentence I need to live out." She muttered.

She had accepted her punishment? The punishment he hardly believed in anymore? That was... Very noble of her. "What about you? Why did you run all that way just to save me?" She asked.

"Because I wanted to apologise for what I did. I wanted to make sure that you were safe. If something had happened to you... It would have been all my fault... I would have never forgiven myself." He replied, his brow becoming knitted with sorrow and guilt.

"Well, you got there just in time. I'm still here thanks to you." Belle told him comfortingly.

"And so am I." Beast responded.

There was a loud crash that came from the kitchen, followed by roars of laughter. Beast craned his neck to look in that direction. "No, that's too fast!" He heard Mrs Potts cry. She was probably worried about Chip rolling around on his saucer, and wanted him to slow down.

"They know how to have a good time." Belle commented.

He turned back to her "Yes, but when I enter the room laughter dies." He responded. He then lowered his head for a moment and sighed. Even though he hadn't had any outburst as of late, he was still seen as a kill joy. Over time, the servants had gotten used to his temper and depressing mood, so they didn't want to act too happy around him when he was absolutely miserable, in fear that he might shut them down. When the servants were enjoying themselves, he always ended up ruining it in some way, even by his mere presence, so he just stayed out of their way most of the time.

"Me too." Belle said simply.

Beast snapped his head back up and gave her a confused look. How could someone like her ever dampen the mood?

"The villagers aren't too fond of me, as you already know. They say that I'm a 'funny girl', but I don't think they mean it as a compliment." She explained.

He furrowed his brow. She was anything but a 'funny girl'. She was a talented girl, a clever girl, a brilliant girl... He could go on. "I'm sorry." He sympathised with her. "Still, it could be worse... At least you don't have horns growing out of your head."

She chuckled. "That's true. I think they would do a little more than just call me names at that point. Gaston would probably want to stuff and mount me on the wall. But that sounds a little better than how he normally treats me."

"Who's Gaston?" He questioned.

"The village saviour. He fought in a war around ten years ago, when he was seventeen I think, and has thought of himself as a hero ever since. He likes to live in the past... But recently he's been trying to find himself a wife, and he thought I was the perfect candidate." She told him.

Beast tried his best to stop himself from looking horrified. A war hero had his eyes set on her? Did she reciprocate his feelings? Was she already engaged? "He proposed to you?"

"Sort of. I think he was trying to lead up to that, but I stopped him before he could. I'm just not interested in him... All he seems to care about is himself and... I just don't want to end up as someone's housewife. Especially not his." She replied. "There's so much more that I want to do with my life."

Gaston sounded a lot like him, back when he was human. It was a good thing she hadn't met him before the curse, or she would have found him just as insufferable. "How did he take being turned down?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't see him after that... But knowing him I doubt he took it very well."

"Does he call you things too, like the other villages?"

"No, but he doesn't exactly put a stop to it either. He's just as bad as the others." She answered. It was clear that she didn't like this 'Gaston' one bit. There was probably a whole lot more she could say about him, but was refraining from doing so. Perhaps she didn't want to talk too badly about him, or anyone else for that matter, even though it sounded like they gave her no reason to hold back. Maybe she didn't want to lower herself to their level.

"How often do the other villages call you that?" He asked.

"Pretty much every time I step out of the house. They always talk about me, even when I'm in earshot, almost like they want me to hear them. They say that I'm odd, or peculiar, or not well." She told him.

"All because you know how to read and have inventive ideas?" He questioned.

She nodded in response.

Beast was stunned. If that's how the village reacted to a girl who simply knew how to read, then who knows what they would think of him. He was starting to feel thankful for being erased from everyone's memory.

Even still, despite Belle's awful situation back home, at the very least it was nice to know that she understood what it was like to be an outcast. She may not have been through what he had... And frankly he'd never want another human being to experience what he had... But he could feel like she could relate.

Perhaps these two outcasts could band together.

"Your village sounds terrible." He commented.

"Almost as lonely as your castle." She replied.

And then an idea popped into his head. Something special he could do for Belle. He could show her the enchanted book, and take her anywhere she wanted to go. "What do you say we runaway? Leave all of that awful stuff behind?" He suggested.

Belle looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, I'll show you." He replied, beckoning her to stand up. "There's something in the library you haven't seen yet."

Belle got up, and followed him back to the castle. Once they were indoors, she removed her cloak and hung it up, before going into the library with him.

They walked over to the fire place and paused beside a table that had a book rest on it, as well as a couple of maps. "Wait right there." Beast instructed, before eagerly hurrying off to find the book.

It would seem that he had hidden it quite well after the disaster that was the last time he had used it. Even he couldn't find it.

His search finally ended after checking several rows multiple times, before coming across it by chance. He pulled it off the shelf and carried it over to Belle, who had been patiently waiting the entire time.

"This is a little gift the Enchantress left me." Beast told her, as she drew closer to get a better look. "The book that truly allows you to escape." He unlatched the book and opened it up, and then blew off the thick layer of dust that covered the pages.

He then propped it up on the book stand and moved out of the way so that Belle could see it for herself. She stared at map of the world that was illustrated on the pages - as well as the magic that seemed to be just pouring out of the cracks - in awe and wonder. "Amazing." She murmured breathlessly, overcome by shock.

"It was her cruellest trick of all." Beast muttered. "It's just another curse. The outside world has no place for a creature like me." He stated. "But it can for you."

He offered her his paw. She hesitated for a moment, and he assumed she didn't know what he was doing. Or maybe she was just uncomfortable by this advancement. He smiled warmly and gave her a reassuring nod as he took hold of her hand. She didn't protest. He held it with extreme care, as he didn't want to scratch her with his claws by accident, and guided her hand over to the page.

"Think of the one place you've always wanted to see," He told her, as he placed her hand on the crevice of the book, with her finger tips touching the golden line that he always assumed had been pure magic. "And find it in your mind's eye," He added, pushing her hand against the book, his paw completely covering it before he took it away. "And feel it in your heart."

The library, and the suffocating castle walls faded, and were replaced by rotten, wooden walls, that were much closer, making the whole room feel rather cramped.

Beast glanced around, hearing a scraping sound above him. He looked up, and grimaced when he realised the tips of his horns had been scraping against the low ceiling. He would have to make sure to duck down and slouch even more than he usually did.

He bent his knees a little and looked around again, noticing that they were inside some sort of attic, although it was hard to make out as the room was so dark, and his eyes needed time to adjust after being in such a brightly candlelit room. There was a creaking sound coming from somewhere, but he was having trouble finding the source. In fact, the whole rotting building seemed to tremble just by a mere gust of wind.

His eyes had adjusted now, so he could take in his surroundings. The attic was covered in dust and cobwebs, littered with pieces of paper and disarranged furniture. There was an easel in the corner, but it wasn't supporting a canvas. There was also an unmade bed built into the wall.

He glanced at Belle, who was also examining the room. When he said that they should runaway, taking a trip to some building that was ready to collapse wasn't what he had in mind. He was thinking somewhere more exotic, like Spain.

"Where did you take us?" He asked.

"Paris." She responded, her voice quiet and wavering off.

Oh. Well that was much better. It was still an odd location to start off in, but it wasn't an issue. "I love Paris." He stated, walking over to the window, and being mindful of the ceiling as he went. He stared out at the city, and at the rows of houses that stretched off into the distance, as well of the silhouettes of large, unmistakable landmarks. "I've been here quite a few times, perhaps I can give you a tour." He suggested.

He had also found the source of the creaking. It was the four rotating sails attached to the house. They were in a windmill.

He could also see the bright, twinkling stars in the dark blue sky, and the silver moon that was peeking out behind a few clouds. He couldn't quite believe it was night-time. He hadn't been paying much attention to what time of day it was in the slightest. But this was a good thing, he could use the cover of darkness to his advantage and he and Belle could walk through the city unseen.

"What would you like to see first, Notre Dame, the Champs-Élysées...?" He turned away from the window to look at her, but he was met with a blank expression. "No? Too touristy?"

She didn't answer.

He turned back to the window and admired the city from afar, behind the pane of glass. "I never pictured it being this small..." He heard Belle mutter behind him.

The floorboards creaked as she moved across the attic, and he saw her pick something up out of the corner of his eye.

And then she did something he never would have expected. She started to sing.

"This is the Paris of my childhood, these were the borders of my life..."

Her voice was angelic as she was.

"In this crumbling dusty attic, where an artist loved his wife..."

Beast turned away from the window at the mention of what he could only presume was Belle's mother and father. He watched her silently, a saddened expression crossing his face as she moved across the room towards the bed.

This was her home. Her past. A part of her life. All contained within one room.

"Easy to remember, harder to move on..."

Belle bent down and picked up what looked like a baby rattle, that had a red rose on the end. She grasped it tightly in her hand as her voice cracked. "Knowing the Paris of my childhood... Is gone..."

She sat down on the bed, tears welling up in her eyes. Beast walked across the room, treading carefully through such a sacred place. It was essentially part of her. He knew how important pieces of your childhood could be.

He finally plucked up the courage to ask Belle about her mother. He'd just be very careful and not push her too far. If she didn't want to talk about it, then she didn't have to.

"What happened to your mother?" He asked, after giving the room another quick sweep with his eyes.

"It was the one story Papa could never tell. I knew better not to ask." She replied.

She didn't know? That was... Heart-breaking.

Beast glanced down and he felt his heart sink when he lay eyes on a clue that might give Belle the answer she must have been looking for all her life.

Belle got up from the bed and he carefully picked up the item in his paws. "A doctor's mask..." He murmured aloud, turning to look at her. She was on the verge of tears.

"Plague." He told her.

She must have already been thinking it.

Belle turned away for a moment as Beast put the mask back where he found it. He looked over at her again, and noticed that she was shaking.

He tried to give her some words of comfort but his voice got caught in his throat, leaving him speechless.

He heard her choke up. She turned round and knelt beside a crib. Her old crib. She put her hand in and grasped the white, soft blankets as she cried, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Beast stared silently for a moment, unsure of what to do. Seeing her so upset... It was killing him.

But what could he do? What could a monster like him possibly say or do to make any of this better?

Maybe he should just leave her be, give her some time to grieve.

He shook his head. No, she needed someone. She needed him.

He slowly walked over to her and crouched down beside her. For the first time, he was level with her. He was no longer towering over her. Not only that, but he knew what she was going through. He knew everything she was feeling, and more.

They were the same.

He lifted his arm and cupped her other hand in his paw. There was no horse she wanted to help him stroke, no book to guide her to. Not this time.

He just wanted to hold her hand.

He wanted to be there for her.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and ran his thumb across her skin soothingly.

She looked away from the crib and met his gaze, her cheeks wet and stained with tears. Her soft brown eyes were red and puffy.

He gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm sorry... For everything." He whispered. "I'm sorry that you never got to meet her, I'm sorry that she never got to see you grow up."

Belle glanced down at her hand that was enveloped in his large paw. "But most of all..."

She looked back at him again. "I'm sorry I ever called your father a thief, when all he ever wanted was to make his daughter happy."

"Let's go home." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

Beast gave her a comforting smile and put his other paw around her hand. "It's going to be alright. You'll see. You're not alone."

A/N - Thanks for the birthday wishes and kind reviews on Friday.

To answer your question, Cress, about writing a possible sequel... I have considered it. I want to write an alternate ending and a mini story that follows after that alternate ending at some point. But a sequel after the curse is broken? I'd definitely do it if I ever come up with a solid story idea.

This chapter was one of my favourites to write. I liked developing a full conversation between Beast and Belle, as well as the comforting manner Beast shows towards her when they go to Paris. I also felt like Belle needed to mention who Gaston is, so that Beast knows a bit about him, as well as her life at the village, which gives Beast a better understanding of what's going on in a later chapter.