Chapter 25: Your Dinner
"Mrs. Potts!" The Beast bellowed. Belle's eyes grew wide with surprise as she sank into a nearby chair.
Mrs. Potts came into the room in a whisk of white skirts.
"Yes, Master?" She asked, breathless in her haste.
The Beast sent her a dark look before turning away. He moved down the long wooden table and sat. The seat beneath him cracked under his weight.
"Food, Mrs. Potts." He ordered shortly.
"In here, Master?" The woman asked, gazing around the enormous and disheveled library.
"In here." The Beast confirmed. His heavy tone did not encourage objections.
The servant nodded and moved closer to the girl. The Beast watched as Mrs. Potts held out a hand to help Belle rise. The girl reached forward slowly and sent the older woman a thankful smile.
"You will stay." The creature demanded. Both his servant and the girl jump. "And we will finish our discussion."
Mrs. Potts robust form began to bounce as she pulled her hands together and shook her head. "Oh, Master. She's so filthy and wet. Surely you could excuse her now and let her get cleaned up. I'll have a nice meal sent to her room and she can meet you after."
"She will eat with me, or she won't eat at all." The Beast ground through clenched teeth.
To his surprise, Belle stood and turned to Mrs. Potts with a tender smile. "I am well, Mrs. Potts. Please, we have much to discuss." The girl's smile deepened and through the cloud of long dark ringlets that framed her face, the Beast saw two hidden dimples form on either side of her cheeks. "And, I'm famished!" Belle concluded, laughing softly at her own heated admission.
"Well, of course you are, love." Mrs. Potts agreed with a gentle nod. "Heaven knows what happened in those woods! From the looks of you and the Master, I'd say it was nothing good! I'll go fetch you a lovely meal. You just rest here and talk. I'm sure the Master will take good care of you." The woman sent a sharp look to her Master and turned away, moving to the open doors of the library.
Belle did not return to her seat at the end of the table. She instead turned and walked closer to him. Her steps were slow, either from fear or from pain. Eventually, she was standing across from him. Her hands raised and rested on the back of the high winged chair.
"May I?" The girl asked. Her voice was husky and the Beast felt his brows raise.
He nodded and leaned back, careful to allow her space. The Beast frowned as his acute hearing picked up a slight hitch in her breath when she sat. Pain, he identified instantly and began to reconsider forcing her company. No, he argued silently, enough time had been wasted.
Belle was silent for a moment and the Beast found himself focusing on her face. He found himself frowning as he inspected her. He had known that she was beautiful. Even the least interested observer would have noticed that. But Belle had a secret quality that was something else entirely. He could almost smell it on her. Her beauty almost seemed to be a mask. The Beast gazed at her and wondered what was behind the hazel eyes. What was beyond the angelic smile? Who was this girl that his life depended on?
"You are not the dark beast I was warned about." The girl spoke plainly.
He watched Belle's hands tighten on the table until the pale flesh became pink. Her words were calm but her fear was very real. A predatory smile passed his lips.
"How do you know I am not this beast," he asked slowly, letting the deep rumble of his voice flow through his sharp teeth. Belle's breath sped up faintly and he waited for her to respond. For the first time since she sat before him, the girl looked him in the eyes. She took a moment to answer.
"I've known since the wolves. You were not their master. You fought them. Perhaps you even killed a few."
The Beast watched as she struggled to speak of the recent carnage. It would have been much worse if she had awakened in those woods and seen the true devastation that remained.
When the Beast awoke his body had been stiff and sore. The damage caused by the wolves to his flesh was extensive. He had groaned as his limbs regained feeling. Then he noticed the girl.
Her body was tucked into his side with her arm flung casually over his waist. He jerked back and moaned. The movement caused a sharp pain to spread over his shoulder and down his back. With a heavy paw, he felt for the spot, only to grasp an unexpected garment in his hands. A long white cloak.
The Beast pulled it over his shoulder and inspected it more closely. The thing belonged to the girl but he could smell another scent on it as well. Something woodsy, like pine. He pulled it to his nose and sniffed again then growled as another aroma filled his snout. A man.
The Beast turned to the girl and shifted away from her but her body twisted instantly and pushed more closely into his fur. He let out a grunt and laid his head back in the snow, trapped.
His eyes wandered around the frozen clearing. The remains of the dead lay in mounds of snow and blackened blood. Many of the corpses wore evidence of his claws, still more the signs of his strength, but there were some he could not claim. There were some slain by a daintier hand.
The Beast turned his gaze to the sky and he watched as the wind brushed the newly bare branches back and forth overhead.
The forest was silent. Very silent.
His fur rose and his arm swung around instantly as he pulled himself up. He shifted the tiny woman beneath him. His eyes searched the shadowed trees and groves.
Within a moment the injured wolves came into view. There were five or more. They had made it to the trees and sat in wait for the Beast to enter. Their long, lean bodies were obviously hurt. He had fought them the night before. Yet they stood, enraged and alert, preparing to entrap their enemy.
The Beast's sore body suddenly became tight again as his muscles readied for an attack. His lips pulled back to flash his ferocious fangs. His growl was low, he knew his fur would muffle it for the girl, but the wolves would hear it clearly.
Part of him craved the fight, but the other part knew the girl would be left unprotected if he had to clash with the pack. With his body still pressed over hers, he lifted his horns sharply and dared the wolves to come forward.
A few howls followed, then whimpering filled the wooded clearing. The wolves began to back away again. He could smell their panic. His gaze turned, examining every black shadow for red eyes. They had retreated, leaving their frozen and bloody dead behind them.
The Beast waited for his breathing to slow and his heart to return to normal before he looked down at the girl.
Her blood had dried in patches on her forehead. Long scratches ran down her cheek. The deep blue hollows beneath her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.
She had fought for him, covered him, and by evidence of the long branch that lay by her side, had tried to protect him through his sleep.
The least he could do was keep her from the sight of what they had done.
With much effort, he retracted his claws. His paws felt heavy as he lifted the girl off the ground. She moaned softly and pressed herself into him. The Beast frowned. She would awaken if he started carrying her.
He reached for her ivory cloak and cradled it around her to carefully. Then he laid her on the soft snow. As his body adjusted to standing, he absently tucked her bare feet in the folds of the cloak. They were freezing. She would be lucky if she could keep her toes.
The Beast turned then to his objective. The wolves' bodies were stiff as he lifted them and placed them in the clearing behind the trees. Their frostbitten fur spiked into the Beast's arms and he growled under his breath. He watched the girl over his shoulder as she slept.
The chore took effort and strength. By the time the Beast had moved the last wolf, he was exhausted and bleeding again. He dove his paws into the white snow to clean them. Then, with a huff, the Beast fell to his knees beside the girl.
Her teeth were chattering slightly and her face had a bluish tint. With only a moments hesitation, she was pulled into the warmth of his body. Belle felt small in his arms and he was careful not to crush her. He was almost afraid to close his eyes. Then he felt her face nestle into his shredded shirt front and heard her sigh. In an instant, the monster drifted off to sleep.
"Perhaps." The Beast answered quietly and waited for her to continue.
"You called me Savior. So did the child. I don't think, or, well, I don't know how I could save anything or anyone. I am simply here to warn the Master of this castle of a threat." The girl was nervous again. The Beast watched as she slipped a hand into her hair and began rubbing her sore flesh.
"You have told me," He responded absently.
The girl bit her lip and lifted worried eyes to the giant brute. Her questions were measured before she spoke. "Where is the Prince? In the dungeons?"
The Beast laughed darkly. He looked at the frightened girl. Her face was solemn and her lips were pressed together.
He turned his head and mumbled beneath his breath. "There is no Prince in this castle."
Silence followed. It seemed like it would last forever. Then he heard the girl exhale a shaky breath and ask, "Who are you?"
The Beast paused. His mind flickered over his many titles. Prince Adam, His Majesty, and so on. No, he was none of those things now.
Now he was simply, "Beast."
His voice sounded rough when he said the name out loud. He looked at the tiny woman with hooded eyes. Her hazel gaze met his and a small crease formed between her brows. For a moment it was as if she could see into his thoughts, his past. Those eyes, almond shaped and curious, seemed to search his soul.
Then the moment passed and a sound from the doorway caused them both to turn.
Mrs. Potts had returned with five other maids. Each of the women pushed carts loaded with food and drink. The girl gave an audible gasp and the Beast found himself distracted by her excited hunger.
"Here you are, dearie. Nourishment." The housekeeper spoke lightly as she went about clearing the table and spreading a long silken cloth above it. Almost instantly the meal was set out.
The table lay covered in silver and crystal. Potatoes, soups, roasted chicken and whole sides of venison filled the empty space. Thin porcelain plates were filled from heavy platters of cheese and fruit. Crispy brown bread slathered in butter was placed by a crystal bowl of creamy white stew.
The Beast watched as Belle whispered "Thank you," to a slim, blonde-haired table server. The servant filled her glass with champagne and dragon juice.
The Beast turned to his own meal and frowned when he found rare steak on an oblong platter. Before he could protest the cooking of the meat, he heard his housekeeper addressing the other servants.
"Leave the rest on the carts. The Master and his guest will have dessert as it pleases them."
There was a unanimous curtsy from the servers before they turned in a perfect line and left the room. The Beast picked up their hushed whispers as they reached the hallway.
"Oh, my!" Exclaimed one, breathlessly.
"Do you think she looks like a witch?" Another asked, possibly the brown eyed maid, Lottie.
"I have never seen one." Responded another.
"Did you see her hair?"
"And dress?" Two other women spoke almost simultaneously, giggling.
The breathless girl laughed again and began to describe the state of Belle's appearance in detail. The Beast was no longer interested and turned back to his plate. He began to eat with vigor.
"Mademoiselle, may I take your cloak?" He heard over the crunching of his meal. The words of Mrs. Potts barely registered as the Beast swallowed the tasteless cooked meat.
"Thank you, yes. I am rather warm." Belle's soft voice drifted to his ears and he looked over casually and watched as she removed the white fabric from around her shoulders. His nose twitched as that faint woodsy man smell lifted to the air and he growled to himself absently.
A sharp intake of breath drew his attention to the women in his company.
Mrs. Potts stood holding the cloak in one hand. She was poised to draw it closer, but she did not. Instead, she stared at the girl before her in surprise.
Belle had lost all color in her face. Her eyes were widened in shock. She blinked several times and took a shaky breath. Then her expression changed and she stood up. She reached out to a perplexed Mrs. Potts but did not touch her.
Suddenly, she turned her brilliant eyes to the Beast and flashed him a breathtaking smile.
"Well, that explains it!"
A.N. All rights to Walt Disney Co.
Hello, readers! Have you figured it out yet, you clever people? Let me know and we can toast with champagne and dragon juice!
I would like to thank PastOneonta, Lady in Black 22, squishmich, Comical freaka, Tek Sonay, Any, pinkdynamite, and of course my lovely guest reviewers. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! – S.