Just a bit of plague trivia here, from research I've done, the 'buboes' that give the bubonic form of plague its name are what we now know to be extremely swollen and painful lymph nodes (one thing I read said they could reach the size of oranges before they rupture). Not sure they knew what lymph nodes were in the 18th century, but I thought it was interesting that that's what the buboes of bubonic plague refer to. Basically from what I read, the bubonic form of plague kills you by causing your body to kill itself. Basically from what I understand it causes the immune system to go so haywire trying to fight off the disease that it not only attacks the yersinia pestis bacteria responsible for all forms of plague (bubonic, pneumatic, septicemic, and rarely, enteric), but basically attacks everything, including your body, system by system. A sort of suicide by immune system if you will. Nasty stuff!
So a warning, this is a very downer chapter. I know some of you *really* wish Agathe would intervene and save Belle, so this chapter is going to be a hard pill for some to swallow. It was actually kind of depressing to write. And to boot, I've been discussing the story with ladivina, who suggested a plot twist that I hadn't planned on, but can't pass up. She tends to get my plot bunnies breeding, and sometimes she has some pretty dark and dismal ideas. Thanks to her influence, this story will get worse before it gets better. You have been warned.
Six days later, Beast was watching Belle in the mirror, as he did whenever he was not asleep or with Didiane. It was just after lunch. Didiane had gone to the library to practice her reading. In the few days since Beast had shown her the library, she had made quite an improvement in her reading skills under his gentle guidance.
"She's catching on so fast Belle," he whispered to the mirror, wishing she could hear him. "You'd be so proud of her. How anyone could have ever discouraged her, let alone her own father, I shall never understand."
Belle looked so awful now, the dreaded plague causing much of her skin to be necrotic. The buboes were so swollen that they were ruptured and oozing. Beast wasn't even sure how she even managed to breathe. Though her breathing was so shallow. He was sure it would soon stop.
And then she gave a couple gasps, a few twitches, and went completely still. Beast watched for several minutes, but saw no further breath. His heart shattered into a million pieces. He was about to set the mirror down when the doctor with the beaked mask came in on his daily rounds. Beast watched as the plague doctor made his examination. Belle's final examination. Confirming what Beast had already gathered, the doctor took her sheet and brought it up to cover her head. He then left.
Beast set the mirror down. He was sitting on the edge of his bed and his head hung low as tears fell. Belle was dead. Her suffering was finally over. This was a relief, but also heartbreaking at the same time.
"Goodbye Belle," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. Your last twelve years should have been happy ones and they shouldn't have ended like this. I'm so sorry. At least you're not hurting now."
Why did life have to be so exceedingly, incredibly, unbelievably cruel? Even the curse, and the permanence of it, the twelve lonely years since Belle left, did not seem a tenth as cruel to the Beast as how Belle's life had just ended. And to think this end came after twelve years of an abusive marriage that she was blackmailed into entering just made it seem that much more cruel.
And now, he had an eleven year old girl he had to break the news to. Didiane was now officially an orphan, though of course she was better off without her father. Pulling himself together, though with a very heavy heart, he made his way to the library.
Didiane was sitting in a cozy chair by the fire in the library. She was engrossed in a book when Beast walked in and padded over to her. He remembered walking in on Belle so engrossed, and hating to interrupt her. Often he didn't, but occasionally there was something that warranted it. But those issues all seemed trivial in comparison to the news he had for Didiane. He did not, he did not, want to interrupt her for this. He turned his head and looked to the library door, contemplating saving the news for a better time. But what better time could there possibly be? He turned his head to look once more upon his young charge. He softly cleared his throat, placing a paw on her shoulder.
Didiane looked up from her book. She felt the slight tremor in her guardian's paw, try as he might, and did, to keep it perfectly steady. His grave expression was another clue that something was wrong.
"Beast," she said. "Why do I have a feeling you're not just coming to check how my reading is coming along?"
"Is it that obvious?"
Didiane nodded in reply.
"May I sit down? I...need to have a word with you."
"Of course," Didiane put her book on the end table next to the chair.
Beast selected a nearby couch in case she would want to sit beside him for comfort. He heaved a heavy sigh.
"Is it about Maman?" Didiane asked a bit nervously.
"It is," Beast said quietly. "Would you like to sit next to me? You don't have to, but if you want too..."
Didiane didn't have to be invited twice. She stood up and walked to the couch, sitting beside him. Beast took a deep breath and looked at her.
"I've just been looking on her in the mirror," he began.
"Is she...? I mean, has she...?"
"Passed, yes," Beast whispered. "It's over."
Beast watched as Didiane crumpled into a sobbing heap next to him. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close against him. He allowed some of his own tears to fall, but made sure to maintain his composure enough to be a strong support for the child.
"It's some comfort I suppose that she's not suffering anymore," Beast said softly. "And I don't think she was really aware of things for the final hours."
"Let's go get her," Didiane said. "She should be buried on the castle grounds."
Beast's heart sank further than he thought possible. That's exactly what he wanted to do. The likely scenario of Belle being unceremoniously deposited into a mass grave with other deceased plague victims did not sit at all well with him. But he knew Belle's body was not safe to handle.
"I can't tell you how much I'd like to do that," Beast said. "But I'm afraid we can't. We'll get sick if we go near."
"What will happen to her?"
Beast carefully considered his words. He wanted to spare her knowing that a mass grave was the most probable final resting place for her mother.
"There will be people who are able to take precautions against the plague who will bury her."
Both were in a deep state of grief. Neither felt like eating much of their dinner. About a half hour after eating a meager amount, Didiane stood and spoke.
"Goodnight Beast," she said. "I shall retire early. I'm feeling...a bit unwell."
"Goodnight Didiane," Beast said, walking over and giving her a hug. "I'll be here in the parlor or in my room. Feel free to find me if you need anything."
Didiane looked all right, other than being very melancholy which was to be expected. Beast chalked her 'unwell' feeling to grief. He watched as she departed for her bedroom.
Around midnight, Beast looked in on Didiane with the mirror. He wanted to see if he needed to go in and offer comfort. He needed to go in there all right. What he saw made his blood run cold. Didiane was not just 'a bit unwell', nor was what he was seeing able to be explained as grief. He set the mirror down and started racing to the East Wing, heart pounding with fear.